Letters
by maintje
Summary: COMPLETE! Harry's experiencing trouble with his two best friends, and writes about it in a letter. When he puts it in the Room of Requirement, he didn't expect someone to reply. All the while, Draco Malfoy is acting very susupicious, and Harry's desperate to find out. HPXDM slash.
1. Chapter 1: Lonely

**Hello! I know it's been a really long time, but for the New Year, I thought I'd post you guys a small New Year's present. This is a new fic I started, and I'm dying to know what you think about it. Let me know what you think, and whether I have to continue it! **

**Enjoy reading!**

* * *

**NOTE: This chapter has now been betaed by Lumcer! She did a great job in finding all the grammar mistakes! The next chapters will follow shortly.**

_Chapter 1  
Lonely_

Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor Common room, waiting for his best friend to come down. He was finishing up some homework he had to do for Slughorn and was hoping to play some chess or go out to fly at the Quidditch pitch. He hadn't seen Ron all week, and he was craving for some time alone with his cheery friend.

Hermione hadn't been around either, she had gone to the library – which was not surprising – not to do homework like Harry was doing, but to study, because all of her assignments due this week were already finished. The main reason she wasn't sitting here with Harry, although she had implied to him that the room was too noisy, was because Harry had the book that made his Potion's class a piece of cake.

Ever since sixth year had started, Harry had used his book to impress Slughorn with his Potion's skills, and Hermione, who had always been better than him at everything except for Quidditch, had told him to bring the book back and tell the teachers what was written there. She had also suggested sending the book to Libatius Borage, the writer of _Advanced Potion Making_ to tell him the indications made in the book were more efficient than his, and that he could use them to publish another edition.

Harry had just waved her comments away, saying he was just using an old book and would return it at the end of the year. Ron had nodded, choosing Harry's side infuriating his curly haired friend. On its own, the book wasn't bothering Hermione that much, but she had been moody ever since Ron had started to spend time with Lavender. She was taking it out on Harry, because she couldn't stand to see them together.

Her distant behavior hadn't really bothered him at first, but it was starting to get on his nerves. He missed his female friend and her wise words. Even though she could be extremely irritating, and even though she mostly talked about school, he kept feeling like he should apologize and make up with her. During classes, she mostly hung out with Parvati, because Lavender mostly hung out with Ron ever since they'd started dating.

As easy as it is to put one and one together, it is not that difficult to derive that Harry had lost both his friends and could hardly spend time with them. At that point, Ron came down, grinning widely. "Hi mate!" Harry's face lit up, throwing his books in his bag as Ron reached the end of the staircase.

"Hi, Ron. Finally! Are you up for some chess?" Harry smiled, his voice sounding a little too enthusiastic. Harry knew Ron thought everything was fine, but Harry was really craving for some chess or Quidditch.

"No, mate. I thought I had told you. Lavender and I are hanging out together. Sorry!" Ron slapped Harry on the back jovially and made for the Fat Lady.

"Don't worry. I'll just get some extra homework done," Harry replied, his unnatural smile still glued to his face. Ron was gone before the words left Harry's lips. "_Hang out. Rather like lick each others' faces clean,"_ Harry thought furiously.

Harry wasn't used to being jealous. In fact he wasn't jealous; he just felt a little left behind. He knew Lavender was a new chapter in Ron's life, but to Harry's mind, they were overdoing it a little. Harry wasn't ready to _hang _with girls, nor did he have anybody in mind to date.

As for Hermione, he didn't dare go to her to talk about Ron, since her emotions were rather messed up because of his fling with Lavender. All she would ask was whether he still used that damned book, and he wouldn't give it up for anyone. Potions class was the only thing he was good at right now.

Deep down Harry knew she was always bringing up the book to avoid talking about Ron, but right now Harry was the one who could use the support of a good friend. He didn't feel like being the mediator this time. Harry sat down again, sighing as he looked into the crackling fire place.

Harry got out his book, _Guide To Advanced Transfiguration_, for the ten pages long essay they got from McGonagall earlier that week. It wasn't due until next week, but Harry didn't know anything else to do. It was already Thursday, so if he started it now, maybe he wouldn't have to do it this weekend. He got out a blank roll of parchment and took up his quill. He stared at the pages about Conjuration, but wasn't able to really read what was written there.

After another half hour, with no movement in the Gryffindor Common room whatsoever, Harry decided not to do his homework. The Room hadn't been so quiet in a long time, and Harry wondered why there wasn't anyone present. Even if the room had been crowded, it wouldn't have made it easier to study. His mind overflowed with thoughts of Ron and Hermione, it was silly to just sit there and do nothing.

He knew he shouldn't be feeling that dreadful about it, but he couldn't help feeling left out. He wished he had a Pensieve, like Dumbledore, but no such luck for him. His thoughts kept pestering him all evening. He remembered Hermione telling him about writing stuff down, so he decided to start writing down his thoughts, to clear his head… or to do something with his hands.

_Dear whoever I'm writing to,_

_I have to get rid of my thoughts. I was trying to do some homework, but I couldn't focus because my thoughts are disturbingly distracting. I was trying to find a way to get rid of them, so I decided to write them down. Hermione told me that often relieved her feelings._

_Well, I'm not even sure what I'm doing, writing to a piece of parchment. But well, I was waiting for Ron earlier today, hoping to do something relaxing together with him. He had plans with Lavender, so I didn't have anyone to play chess or that of a quick game of Quidditch with. _

_And Hermione isn't talking to me either. Silly, lonely me. I don't know what else to write, so I'll just quit here. It's not helping anyway. It's actually more confronting than relieving. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry_

Harry looked at what he had written and rolled his eyes. If anybody ever read this, he would no longer be the Boy Who Lived, but rather the Boy Who Had Gone Mental. How lame was he? He was acting like a ten-year-old, drowning in self-pity and he knew it. He folded it, put it in his pocket and got up, no longer wanting to stay in front of the fireplace. The red glow it was spreading reminded him too much of the old days he spent there with his friends, talking about Voldemort, talking to Sirius or trying to get homework done.

He exited the Gryffindor Common Room, letting his feet carry him wherever they wanted to go. He soon arrived on the seventh floor, not far from the Room of Requirement. Of course! He could put his letter in the Room of Requirement, in the place where everyone hid the stuff that they didn't want anyone to find!

Smiling at his own brilliance, he walked forward, planning on walking three times past the blank wall. When he got closer, however, the place where the passage to the Room of Requirement was supposed to be, he could already make out a door. Seconds later, the so-said door opened. Harry saw a tall, slim figure making his way out. His platinum blonde hair stood out immediately in the dim light of the candles.

What was Malfoy doing in the Room of Requirement? Harry knew the blonde had found out about _the_ room in fifth year, when Dumbledore's Army had used it for their lessons. Harry had never expected the young man to use it though. He watched as the Slytherin quickly threw a few glances around, probably to make sure nobody had seen him, suspicious as always.

As Malfoy exited the corridor, Harry made his way up to the room and put his letter in the place where everything was hidden, his thoughts still with the blonde. The boy was probably up to no good, and Harry was already determined to find out why he was using the Room. He hid the letter under a blue box, not paying much attention to it.

No one would find the worried secrets from the Boy Who Lived there.

As Draco walked around the corridor, he saw a mop of black hair floating behind one of the columns on the seventh floor. Potter? What the hell was he doing there? Had he seen what he had done?

Anxiety filled Draco's heart as he watched Potter walk three times past the very same wall he had just exited from. Of course Potter knew what room that was, but would he know what Draco had wished for? Would he know about the Dark Lord's plans?

Draco walked to the pillar Potter had been standing behind and waited for the latter to come back out. He probably had to save the day _again_, shadowing him around Hogwarts. Whatever the Savior was doing, it didn't take him long, as he exited the door moments later. This only increased Draco's worry. He walked around the corner, just as Draco had done earlier. As soon as his coat disappeared from view, Draco ran towards the shrinking door, throwing his body forward and making his way inside just in time.

Draco got up, smoothed his clothes and looked around. His heart sank in his chest as he saw the Vanishing Cabinet only a few feet away. How had he been able to choose the same room? Potter wouldn't know about that would he? Why did the Gryffindor always have to meddle into his stuff?

Draco looked around the untidy room, not having looked at it properly before. It was a mess. How could it be that so many people wanted to get rid of such ordinary things? Next to the Vanishing Cabinet stood a bookcase, with all sorts of dusty books on the shelves that Granger would love to stick her nose into.

On the table in front of the before mentioned bookcase were different roles of parchment. There was enough dust on them to make all the students of Hogwarts sneeze. The place was probably swarmed with Doxys too. Draco was just about to leave when he saw a navy blue, velvet-textured box. The box wasn't covered in dust anymore, which was odd, because everything else was.

Draco grabbed the blue box, disappointment appearing on his face as he realized it was empty. He then saw a neatly folded piece of parchment that had been lying underneath the box. He took it carefully, unfolded it and started to read.

_Dear whoever I'm writing to_

_I have to get rid of my thoughts. I was trying to do some homework, but I couldn't focus because my thoughts are disturbingly distracting. I was trying to find a way to get rid of them, so I decided to write them down. Hermione told me that often relieved her feelings._

_Well, I'm not even sure what I'm doing, writing to a piece of parchment. But well, I was waiting for Ron earlier today, hoping to do something relaxing together with him. He had plans with Lavender, so I didn't have anyone to play chess or that of a quick game of Quidditch with. _

_And Hermione isn't talking to me either. Silly, lonely me. I don't know what else to write, so I'll just quit here. It's not helping anyway. It's actually more confronting than relieving. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Harry_

Potter had written a letter? Why did he put it up here? Anyone could come here and read this. Draco wouldn't have been so idiotic, to do such a thing. He actually wouldn't have written it in the first place. However, Potter had decided to do so, and to put it into a room where anyone could find it. He had probably hoped it would be impossible for anyone to find it here. It was obvious that he had been raised by Muggles. Draco smiled at the letter, knowing he had a rare stroke of luck, to be able reply to Potter's dear worries.

He grabbed a quill and some ink out of his backpack, flipping the letter over he bent over to the desk while making sure that his robes didn't get dusty then started to write…

**To be continued...  
Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Response

**Hi! Like I promised some of those who reviewed, I finished chapter 2 right before my exams. I won't be able to update the next two weeks, but I'll try to make it up afterwards. For now, just enjoy the second chapter. Please let me know whether I need to continue the plot. *Not really sure if I'm heading the right direction with it***

**For all the students out there, good luck with the exams!**

Chapter 2:  
The response

That evening, Harry went to bed early. Ron would be away for a little while longer, so there was no use in waiting up. Hermione had already gone to the girl's dormitories. Although she had nodded on her way, she hadn't said anything to Harry. Harry knew he would have to be the one to take the first step to make it up again, but right now, he didn't feel like it.

Harry crawled under his blankets and closed the maroon curtains around his bed. He pulled his trunk closer and looked for the Marauders Map.

It had been odd to see Draco Malfoy exit the Room of Requirement. Somehow, Harry didn't feel at ease with that thought, and he knew Malfoy must have been up to something. Why else wouldn't he bring his two bodyguards? Harry always had known that sooner or later Malfoy would join Voldemort's side, and it was only a matter of evidence, since Harry was rather sure of it. Harry opened the map and searched for the dot that carried the Slytherin's name.

Malfoy was in the Slytherin Common Room, sitting next to a dot named after Blaise Zabini and across from Parkinson. Harry's shoulders dropped in disappointment, because the blonde was doing something so ordinary. He had suspected him to be wandering around the dim corridors through the castle, looking for something while everybody was asleep. Silently. The word didn't fit the Slytherin, since the boy always wanted everyone to know where he was, and made it very obvious he was present, striding through the corridors like he usually did.

However, Malfoy had been subtle lately. Inconspicuous. Harry shook his head. He was thinking too much. He wished he could talk to Ron about it, who would agree with him straight away. He always agreed when it considered Malfoy. Sadly enough the latter wasn't there. Harry turned the piece of parchment blank again, saying 'Mischief managed' and took off his glasses before sinking into his scarlet pillow. Maybe he could talk to Ron tomorrow. Or Hermione.

* * *

Harry was waiting in the Common Room for Ron to join him for breakfast. The remains of the fire gave the usually cozy room a cold look, as the House elves put it out after everyone had gone to bed. As it was the last school day of the week and Ron had been going out until past curfew, Harry hadn't been able to wake him. Ron was hurrying down, not wanting to miss out of the most important meal of the day. It wasn't that the breakfast mattered that much, any meal was considered important for the red head.

"Oi, mate! Did you have fun making homework yesterday?" Ron asked while taking the last few steps down.

"Yeah. I went to bed early. You sure had fun with Lavender too, didn't you?" Harry teased, grabbing his bag. Ron turned as red as a tomato, and grinned goofily. They left for the Great Hall together. The early sunrays shone through the roof, giving view to a clear blue sky. There were already a few students eating and conversing.

Hermione sat next to Ginny at the Gryffindor table. Their eyes met briefly, but Ron ignored her as they walked by. Harry tried to ignore the stares of the curious students, that he had been receiving ever since sixth year started. The fact that he had outsmarted the Dark Lord for the fourth time, hadn't been kept a secret.

As soon as they sat down, Ron filled his plate. Harry looked around for the morning mail, but Hedwig probably didn't have anything for him. He averted his eyes from the transparent ceiling and focused on his ginger-haired friend.

"I saw Malfoy going into the Room of Requirement yesterday. Do you think he's up to something?" Harry asked, pouring some pumpkin juice in a goblet. He tried to sound casually, but the question had been on the tip of his tongue since Ron woken up.

"Malfoy? What would he do in the Room of Requirement?" Ron was busy filling his plate with an enormous amount of toast.

"That's what I was wondering. He's been different ever since Hogwarts started. Something must've happened during the holidays," Harry added meaningfully. He briefly glanced over at the Slytherin table, where the blonde was seated between his enormous friends.

"Maybe Voldemort has added him to his crew of Death Eater. But I don't see why that would make him go to the Room. Maybe it was just a coincidence," Ron answered, his mouth full of buttered toast, his eyes never leaving his plate.

"Maybe," Harry said thoughtfully, happy he could talk this through with his best friend. "You really believe he got the Mark?" Harry did, but he wouldn't tell that just yet. Maybe Ron would think he was immoderate.

"I don't know. Maybe," Ron said. "When would they do it otherwise? He's almost seventeen." Harry already heard Hermione's voice in his head: _"He _isn't_ seventeen yet, Harry. That means he's not an adult yet. It's impossible." _ Harry shook his head, taking his first bite from his toast, while Ron was finishing his third.

"I can just feel he's up to something, Ron. And I'm going to find out what," Harry said resolutely, after finishing his bite. He took another one, then spoke again. "Is 'Mione talking to you already?" He asked, now that his curly haired friend had crossed his mind anyway.

"No. To you?" Ron answered tersely. He was too busy dishing up pumpkin pasties. Harry didn't mind Ron's great appetite. He was glad they finally had a moment together.

"She isn't talking to me either. She's still angry about that book," Harry replied, throwing a quick glance at the girl they were talking about. Hermione was listening to something Ginny was saying, but Harry could sense she wasn't all that interested.

"She'll turn around. She always does. She can't hang with Parvati forever. Lavender says Parvati doesn't like to hang with her very much." Ron rolled his eyes. Harry thought it was hurtful to say such a thing, but he didn't mention it.

"Does Lavender even talk? I thought you two were more a physical thing," Harry teased. At this, Ron turned as red as a tomato, his ears included.

"Harry!" Harry merely smiled, and finished his toast.

* * *

That evening, when Ron and Lavender were doing their thing around the Hogwarts' grounds, Harry decided to go back to the Room of Requirement. Up until now, Harry still hadn't gone to Hermione to talk. He would, but it was very weird. Mostly, when she and Ron had an argument, Harry chose Ron's side. This time, he had wanted to choose Hermione's side, but he was too much of a man to tell her so. Right now, he still needed to tell her that he actually agreed with her. Ron was allowed to have a girlfriend, but Harry knew Hermione was in love with him. He had always expected them to get together. So when Ron started a relationship with Lavander, it had both surprised and shocked Harry. Did Ron really have no clue at all? He acted like Hermione was jealous of him, while she actually was jealous of Lavander. That should be a compliment for the Ginger-head, right?

By the time Harry got to the seventh floor, he was convinced that he had to remove the letter. The fact that he put a personal note with all that rubbish in a public place was bothering him, and he wanted to take it back and burn it.

He made his way up to blank wall, hoping to see a platina blonde Slytherin somewhere, but luck wasn't on his side. If Harry had caught him near the Room twice, it wouldn't have been a coincidence anymore. It would be certain that Malfoy was up to something, including that very Room. He entered the Place Where Everything Was Hidden, looking for his letter. He found it where he had left it, in the second aisle under the navy blue box on the old oak desk. He snatched it from underneath the dusty box and made for the door again, but froze halfway.

On the back of the letter, there was a note, written in a small, neat handwriting, probably from a girl. Harry unfolded his letter and read what said.

_Dear Harry_

_What a lovely way to get rid of your thoughts. However, I don't think this is the most appropriate way. Who knows who could read about your dark secrets. _

_I fully understand that thoughts can be distracting. I hope writing them down helped, because they sure were amusing for me to read. _

_My advice would be: just go talk to them. They're your friends. They'll understand your feelings._

_It was nice talking to you – or rather writing to you, and if you've got anything else to write, you know where to find me._

_Yours Sincerely_

_Silvergreen_

Harry read the letter twice before it downed on him that someone had answered it. Silvergreen was her name. She must be from Slytherin, otherwise she wouldn't use the two colour of the House in her name. Harry sighed. Writing to a Slytherin was not a very clever thing to do. Nevertheless, Harry sat down on a dusty cupboard that had fallen down and took out another piece of parchment. This was extraordinary.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_I didn't think anyone would find my letter. That's weird and awesome at the same time. Anyway, thanks for the advice. _

_Don't you have any problems I could be of help with? I would love to return the favor._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

Harry looked at it twice before putting it underneath the blue box again. Harry hoped Silvergreen would answer his letter again, and he was dying to tell someone the news. He had hoped no one would have found the letter, but upon reading the answer, Harry didn't mind as much as he thought he would have.

As Harry let his feet drag him back to the warm, red Common Room, he prepared for a talk with his female best friend. Harry reached the entrance and gave the password to the Fat Lady. He immediately saw Hermione sitting at a small table, a book covering the tabletop. The room was buzzing with voices, but still his smart friend managed to read a book. Harry shook his head, making his way up to her and took a seat next to her.

"Hermione. How are you?" he asked. It wasn't the most wonderful start, but at least he had found the courage to come up to her. The confrontation was inevitable.

"Hi, Harry. Where's Ron?" she questioned. Harry had expected her to ask that first. He had chosen his side after all, all the while knowing Ron hadn't been right to hurt her.

"With Lavander. Do you want to talk somewhere more quiet?" Harry saw how her expression changed at the mention of the girl's name. He felt sorry for her and looked up to her at the same time. She had managed to keep her head up all this time, without having her friends around.

"Sure," Hermione sighed, packing up her stuff to accompany Harry outside. The noise in the Gryffindor Common room got louder, as they left. Harry knew she was tired of being alone, otherwise she wouldn't have agreed so easily. They walked through the practically empty castle, looking for a place more quiet. Hermione was the best at finding empty classrooms, and they both sat down on a desk, facing the bare rock wall.

"It's hard to see them together, isn't it?" Harry whispered, not knowing how to tell Hermione he had wanted to choose her side, but had chosen Ron's just because they were guys. She would probably understand, but still it was a boy's thing.

"Have you finally figured out that's why I'm not around much?" Hermione looked at her knees as she spoke. Harry could tell by the sound of her voice, that tears were forming in her eyes.

"You mean you weren't angry about the book?" Harry questioned, wanting confirmation. He knew that had been some kind of cover for her agriness, but he had thought she would be angry about it anyway.

"Yes. I mean, I still think you should hand it in, in case something dangerous is in it, but I would never make a fuss about something so stupid," Hermione told Harry. She talked rather quickly, she had probably wanted to talk to Harry for quite some time now, and Harry was glad he had listened to Silvergreen's advice. It was only thanks to her he was sitting here with Hermione right now.

"That's a relief. I'm really sorry, Hermione. Ron just doesn't know about your feelings," Harry tried to explain.

"Oh, Harry. I know he's in love with that girl. I'm just jealous, you know? I'm nothing like Lavander. I'm just a pedantic bookworm, that's all." Hermione looked up at him this time, brown eyes flooding.

"You know that's not true, Hermione. I don't think it's going to last. Once Ron's hormones will have worn off, he'll come crawling back to you. You're so much more than her. At least you talk," Harry joked, placing his hand on her shoulder. This seemed to cheer her up a little. He hadn't said those words to cheer her up though, he had said them because they were the truth.

"Well, at least I can talk to you again. What made you decide to be the first to talk?"

"Actually, it's complicated. Yesterday, I wrote a letter about Ron ignoring me and you not talking, and I put it in the Room of Requirement," Harry explained, reaching in his pocket for the letter.

"You put a letter in the Room of Requirement?" Hermione brought out indignantly. Harry nodded. "That's not a very smart thing to do Harry. Someone will find it."

"And someone did. Silvergreen answered. I just found it moments ago. It said that I had to make it up to you guys and talk about it, so I decided I would. Well, except for Ron, I don't want him spilling all his obscene details."

"Do you know who wrote it?" Hermione questioned, avoiding the part about Ron swiflty.

"No. All it said was: _Silvergreen._ Is it dangerous?" Harry still had Slytherin in the back of his mind.

"Well, the writer must know who you are, since you mentioned both our names. Since the nicknames are the colors of Slytherin, I think he or she must be from Slytherin. Why would he or she use them otherwise? It's not very safe to write to someone you don't know," Hermione said, just as Harry had predicted she would. The name wasn't so complex, now was it?

"You don't think Voldemort has a part in this, do you?" Harry asked, almost mockingly.

"I don't know. We can't exclude anything." Hermione looked at him with a don't-you-dare-write-back look, and Harry merely shrugged.

"Seriously? 'Mione, it's just a letter."

"The Room of Requirement has been there ever since Hogwarts was built, Harry. Voldemort could have left something else, like the Diary in our second year." Harry remembered the Diary like it was only yesterday. Tom Riddle had been the age they were right now, and it _almost _freaked him out to know the dark wizard had wandered around these corridors one day.

"Isn't that a bit far-fetched?" Harry tried.

"Maybe. I'll do some research on the name, but I think it's just a cover name. You're not planning on writing back, are you?" Harry could sense it had been on the tip of her tongue to ask that question the whole time.

"I already did," Harry replied sheepishly. Hermione shook her head, but didn't take it any further. "Thanks for talking to me, 'Mione. If you need me, come and get me, 'kay? I'm your friend too."

"I know, Harry. Thanks."

"Have you finished your Spells' essay yet?" Harry said while getting off the desk. It was a bit too chilly in the room to stay there any longer.

"Yes, of course. It's due tomorrow. Haven't you?" Hermione shot him a severe glance, that would have made him flinch if he hadn't been this vibrant.

"No."

"Harry!"

"Can you please help me out?" Harry tried.

"I'll help, but you won't copy anything! You have to make it on your own, otherwise you won't learn anything."

Harry smiled, as they made their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. At least he had made up with Hermione. Thanks to Silvergreen.

**To be continued...**

**Please Review! *important if you want me to continue the fic***


	3. Chapter 3: Detention

**So here's the next chapter. I still have one exam to go, and since it's English I'll be writing a lot this weekend. Sorry for the delay, but here you have it! Enjoy.**

Chapter 3  
Detention

Draco had finally gotten rid of Vincent and Gregory. Usually, he was rather fond of their loyal company, but right now he could do away with them. Lucky for him, deserts were being served at the Great Hall, so they would most likely be occupied for quite some time.

Draco had to go back to the Room of Requirement to repair the Vanishing cabinet. During the holidays, the inevitable had happened. His father had pinned down a date to become a Death Eater, and self-evidently kept the honor of the Malfoy Family high. Draco had expected himself to be proud upon seeing the approving look in his father's eyes.

He wasn't. He despised himself for letting the ink run through his veins, and to serve the Dark Lord loyalty. He despised himself for obeying his father, as calm as gentle Jesus.

As if burning the Dark Mark on his arm wasn't painful enough, the Dark lord had given him a task. Lucius had pompously promised his master Draco wouldn't fail to do as he was told. Draco had been terrified. He _was _terrified. He had to make sure his fellow Death Eaters could intrude the castle without anyone knowing.

As difficult as it might have sounded, he had gotten a bit of help from his father, and he suspected Professor Snape to have blabbed some hints too. All he had to do was find a Vanishing Cabinet. He was glad he had finally found the missing sister of the one standing at Flourish and Blotts.

However, what really made him so eager to go back up to the seventh floor, was the letter he had written to Harry Potter. He wondered if the Boy Who Lived had already answered his letter and his fingers were itching to grab the piece of parchment lying underneath the blue box.

He walked past the empty wall three times and entered through the large door hurriedly, only to find himself standing in an empty room.

There was a table in the middle of the room, on which a piece of parchment, a quill and a pot of ink were standing, ready to write. As Draco looked closer, he could see that the closets were overloaded with writing equipment. Bookshelves were filled with empty parchment, and in an exhibition case there were an extensive collection of quills.

He shook his head and left the room, he had been thinking about the letter to much. He started his actions over, walking past the wall again, now fully focusing on the room with the vanishing cabinet. When he opened the door hesitantly, he saw he had gotten it right this time. He cursed under his breath for losing such precious time and made his way through the rubbish in elegance.

He stopped in front of the blue box and ready to take the note that was lying underneath it. Why did he think Potter would have gone back for his letter? His ridiculous answer had been very vague. Draco took a deep breath, lifted the box and to his surprise, he had gotten an answer from his pen-friend.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_I didn't think anyone would find my letter. That's weird and awesome at the same time. Anyway, thanks for the advice. _

_Don't you have any problems I could be of help with? I would love to return the favor._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

He scanned the letter quickly and rolled his eyes at Potter's stupidity. Of course his Hero-complex would make him want to help him. At least until Potter would know who he really was.

Draco threw the letter on the desk and walked to the Vanishing cabinet. He couldn't talk about this to anyone, the Dark Lord had explicitly insisted that he had to do it alone. And completely alone. That was one of the main reasons he was hanging out with Vincent and Gregory more. He was trying to avoid Pansy, she would be too nosy about it.

Draco's task was weighing on his shoulders, like nothing else ever had. The first part had been easy, even though he was still working on the restoration, the Cabinet would soon work perfectly. It was the second part he was experiencing trouble with. He had been assigned to kill the Headmaster.

Draco had never been very fond of the man, considering him as an old lunatic, but that didn't make the killing part easier. Telling someone about it would be a relief, but he didn't even know how to start about it._ "Well, I don't want to bother you, but I have to kill someone you love."_

That would be the most foolish thing he ever said. And for the record, Malfoys didn't say anything foolish. Draco worked on the cabinet, as he was thinking about a proper reply to the brief answer he had gotten from Potter.

_Dear Harry _

_You sure seem curious about me, don't you? I must admit there are some things I would like to unburden myself off, but unfortunately they're not very easy to talk about. _

_Besides, I wouldn't want to bother you with my silly life. You're probably busy saving the Wizarding World from another attack of You Know Who. _

_However, it has been really nice writing to you._

_Yours Sincerely_

_Silvergreen_

After folding the parchment and putting it under the usual spot, Draco left the Room of Requirement, feeling somehow relieved. The fact that Potter was writing to him – not that the aforementioned knew about his identity – scared him a bit. Potter didn't have a clue he was writing to the right hand of the Dark Lord.

On the other hand, it felt good talking to the boy, who once had declined his offer of friendship. Draco didn't know why he wanted to talk to the raven-haired super popular teenager. He had always had a soft spot for the boy. And that was why Draco seized the opportunity to talk to Potter with both hands.

* * *

Harry was finishing his breakfast at the Great Hall. The room was still practically empty, given the early hour. It was Saturday, and since the Quidditch season hadn't started yet, all the student had planned to have a good lie-in, except for the few student sharing breakfast with Harry.

At the Slytherin table, Harry saw a blonde head of hair. What was Malfoy doing up so early? Harry knew Malfoy wasn't a sleepy head , but he had never seen him up so early before. Harry finished his toast, musing about reasons for Malfoy to get up at this time. Was he planning on going to the Room of Requirement like he had done Thursday? As Harry observed the Slytherin, he noticed he wasn't looking as classy as always. He looked tired. Brooding on his plans with Voldemort probably kept him awake at night.

Hatred for the teen started to boil in his stomach. Harry was glad he had declined his offer of friendship back in first year. Lucky for Harry, he had befriended Ron, who knew the difference between the good and the dark wizards. Harry hadn't thought there would be such a thing like Dark Magic, but before going to Hogwarts, he hadn't even believed Magic existed.

As Malfoy left the Great Hall, Harry got up as well and followed his fellow student. The urge to fight with him beat the urge to shadow him and Harry sped up his pace.

"Hey Malfoy!" Harry shouted, loud enough for Malfoy to hear, but not all too loud, since half of the castle was still asleep, portraits included.

"What, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, as he turned around swiftly. Harry took a few steps closer, meeting the dull grey eyes of Lucious' son.

"What are you doing up this early?" He inquired, his voice filled with suspicion.

"I might as you the same question Potter." Malfoy seemed to keep his cool, and it only fuelled Harry's anger more. He wanted the boy to pester him, like he had done last year, and all the previous years at the ancient castle.

"I wanted to stretch my legs a bit and fly a few laps. What's your excuse? You're not in need of your two bodyguards to escort you to your breakfast?" Harry shot. The absence of Crabbe and Goyle was striking, if not disturbing.

"I don't see your Weasel or Beaver anywhere. Having trouble in paradise?" Malfoy spat. Harry felt his temper rise even higher and took a step closer to the pale, slender boy. He was ready to break the boy until nothing was left of his haughty figure.

"Don't you dare call them that, Malfoy. I still want to pay you back for what happened on the train," Harry recalled, resisting the urge to touch his nose. He had been lucky to have Tonks rescuing him, otherwise he wouldn't have made it this year.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop on people, Potter. Didn't your mother learn you that's not nice? Oh no, she couldn't, because she was dead before you could wipe the drool off your shin," Malfoy snarled.

Harry's eyes grew in shock and he couldn't withhold himself any longer. "You're a filthy coward, Malfoy! You know that! Talking about my mother like that, while your own doesn't even _care _to wipe the drool of yours!" Harry blurted, punching Malfoy in his jaw as he boiled over with rage.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Malfoy sneered, still smiling at Harry even though the pain was visible in his eyes. Harry's left hand had taken out his wand in seconds, but he wasn't planning on using it right now. Malfoy had wanted to grab his, but Harry had already hit him before he had been able to reach into his pocket. The blonde pointed his wand at Harry, but it didn't scare him at all. He wanted a pure, raw battle.

"Try hitting another one," Harry dared, clenching his fists, ready to attack again. His wand gave off sparks, building up the tension in his body even more. Both boys were so caught up in their fight, they hadn't noticed some of the portraits had woken up, some following their argument with interest, choosing sides for either Harry or Malfoy, and others muttering that they wanted to get some more rest and inquiring them to be quiet. Unfortunately for Harry, the portraits weren't the only ones awake.

"What's all this rumor in the hallways?"a severe voice came up from behind them. McGonnagal looked at them, her lips forming one thin line. Harry's anger disappeared, evaporating into thin air.

"It's nothing, professor," Harry answered, looking down at his feet, while fumbling with his hands. Harry had always wanted to make McGonnagal proud, and every time he crossed a rule, he felt as if he had disappointed her. She had always been more of a mother to him in those six years, than Aunt Petunia had been in all his life. Anyway, the fact that he somehow considered her as a mother, didn't make her favor him. Quite the contrary.

"I say we'll let the Headmaster decide on that, Mr. Potter," McGonnagal replied, gesturing to the boys to follow her. Her hair was already tied up into a tight knot, so she must've been awake before they started fighting.

"Nice one, Potter," Malfoy growled, glaring at him before following the older woman.

* * *

As soon as Harry got out of Dumbledore's office, he went looking for Hermione. He found her in the library, as usual. He wanted to feel bad about punching Malfoy and getting detention, but somehow, there was no room for sadness in his head right now.

"Hi, Mione."

"Hi, Harry. Weren't you going to fly at the Quidditch pitch?" Hermione responded, looking at Harry briefly from over a thick, old book. Harry always wondered what it was she kept reading, and he often guessed with Ron whether she would manage to finish all the books in the library by the end of the seventh year.

"Yeah, I was. I ran into Malfoy on the way," Harry started, not wanting to tell her he had used violence just yet.

"Not again, Harry. I heard you talking to Ron about him being a Death Eater. He's too young. There's nothing different about him," Hermione said, penalized.

"There is, 'Mione. He's up to something," Harry replied, feeling very sure about this one. Hermione wouldn't be able to change his mind about his assumptions. Not like she did before.

"Maybe you just want him to be up to something. I'm not sure Harry. What happened when you saw him? Was he in the Room of Requirement again?" She closed her book, showing full interest in their conversation. Harry sat down, continuing in a muffled voice, so that Mrs. Pince wouldn't send them away.

"No. It was in the hallways. He insulted my mother, so I punched him." Harry said it very casually, but Hermione wasn't one to be fooled. Her friendly brown eyes looked at him as severely as McGonnagal had done.

"You're not supposed to solve anything by violence, Harry. I thought you knew better."

"I remember you punching him for insulting Hagrid in third year!" Harry blurted defensively. Madame Pince shot him a warning glance, and Harry continued in a whispering tone: "I got detention. Every Sunday from three until eight. It's exaggerated."

"It's what you deserved, Harry. Maybe you'll notice having detention with Malfoy is not so bad after all," Hermione noted, grabbing the book from her desk and walking up to Madame Pince to sign it out.

Harry shook his head. Sometimes his smart friend could be so unrealistic. However, the detention could be useful to get to know what Malfoy was doing in the Room. She had a point there. With this on his mind, he got up as well.

"Thanks for the talk, 'Mione. I'll go get my broom!" Harry saluted, before making his way up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Sadly enough, tomorrow was a Sunday already…

**To be continued…**

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Wet sleeve

**Tomorrow's the final exam, and I thought I'd already post you the next chapter. I hope you enjoy! Do not forget to leave a review! That would make my day **

Chapter 4  
Wet sleeve

Draco was pissed for having gotten detention with Saint Potter. Why was he even writing to that idiot? He wasn't worth his time, attacking him with Muggle violence. Not that Draco would curse Potter without reason, but at least he would've defended himself like a _real_ wizard.

Anyway, the Gryffindor hadn't responded his letter yet, Draco had gone up, just before making his way to McGonnagal's office. Maybe it wasn't that clever to write to the Chosen One, but Draco tried to ignore that part of his thoughts as much as possible. The opportunity he had, enabling him to talk to Potter in private without anyone knowing, made him feel like he had privileges. However, that very same person bruised his jaw the day before.

He wasn't just angry with the muscular Gryffindor, he was actually a bit disappointed in the boy. For once, he had hoped he wouldn't have tried to pick a fight. When his name had been shouted by the all too familiar voice, he had hoped it would've been for another reason than to insult him.

Luck obviously hadn't been on his side. What did he expect? Potter hated him for being who he was, and a simple letter wouldn't change that. Most certainly not when he replied anonymously. Draco had reached McGonnagal's office by now and locked his worries away into a small box, safely hidden inside his heart. He knocked on the massive door before entering and saw the raven haired man was already there.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. You can take a seat," McGonnagal greeted, motioning with her hand towards a very uncomfortable chair. Draco sat down, avoiding the green gaze of his fellow student.

"Today, I'm going to let you help out Mr. Filch. He's in high need of some cleaning helpers, so that'll be your job for today." Draco suppressed to roll his eyes at the Head of the Gryffindor House. He couldn't believe they were getting the same punishment. Potter had assaulted him, Draco had only thrown some hurtful words at the emerald-eyed teen.

There were two short knocks on the door before Filch entered, a smile – or what Draco thought represented a smile – splitting his flabby face in two. The caretaker looked even more unsightly in his rags, facial lines making him look far older than he was.

"There they are. You naughty kids. I'll teach you two. Come on," Filch muttered, nodding to McGonnagal and walking off. He walked in a rigid way, limping with his right leg. Draco got up and followed the Squib, still avoiding Potter's glance. He wouldn't even look at him; because of Potter's temper he had to use the concealment charm to make sure his House mates didn't see his bruise. He didn't feel like seeing Madame Pomfrey either.

Sooner or later, he would get revenge on Potter.

* * *

Harry stretched his sore muscles and looked at Malfoy. His lank hair wasn't as smooth as it usually was, and his robes were covered in Mrs. Skower's All Purpose Magical Mess remover. They had been cleaning for three hours now, and Harry could smell the delicious food being served at the Great Hall, above the nose prickling stench of their cleaning product. Dinner or not, delicious or not, they were stuck here for another two hours.

"This stinks," Harry cursed, throwing his rag back into the bucked, sighing heavily. His fingers were numb, and his wrists ached. Filch had made them clean all the suits of armor _without magic_. They had already polished the suits of armor on the fifth floor with Madame Glossy's Silver polish. It had taken them so long that Harry was able to see his reflection in his own hands. It was inhuman. Now they were cleaning the cold walls of the dungeons. He didn't even know why that was necessary. With one swift wave of the wand, all the walls on the lower levels of the castle could be clean. Yet, they were squatting in front of the old, humid walls.

"Stop whining Potter. It's your fault we're here," Malfoy snarled. Harry rolled his eyes at the blonde, meeting his eyes furiously.

"It's not _my _fault, Malfoy. If you wouldn't be so rude, insulting my family, I wouldn't have had to insult yours." Malfoy had deserved the punch, that was for breaking his nose on the Hogwarts Express.

"Stop whimpering like a crybaby, Potter. How old are you?" Harry glared, feeling irritated and decided not to answer the question. After all, it was a rhetorical one. Malfoy's left sleeve was soaked, since he hadn't turned it up. His right sleeve on the other hand, was neatly rolled up. This peculiar thing hadn't caught Harry's attention in the past three hours, but right now, he watched him closely, while Malfoy returned to his cleaning. This would be his shot to get some information out of his partner in crime.

"Why's your left sleeve still down? Are you hiding something?" Harry asked inspective. He observed the Slytherin's every move. Malfoy fidgeted his sleeve before shooting him a death glare, but underneath the dark gloom in his silver eyes, Harry had seen a flicker of fear. He _was _hiding something.

Thriumph made Harry's body awake from its stiff state. Malfoy on the contrary, tensed.

"Don't be foolish, Potter. I know that's a lot to ask. I'm not carrying the mark, otherwise I wouldn't be in this obtuse school, led by that lunatic." Malfoy's voice sounded very convincing, but Harry hadn't been obvious to the glint of worry in the grey orbs. It was still there.

"Don't try to insult your way out of this. You know very well that I'm only asking because I'm already sure it's there. You don't have to deny it, Malfoy," Harry replied in a friendly tone, which was very improper, giving the state of their conversation.

"Mind your own business, Potter. You're starting to act like that bushy-haired, nosy know-it-all." Malfoy's mask was up, Harry could sense it. The eruption of insults only confirmed Harry's assumptions.

"I see through your mask, Malfoy. I know you're up to something, and I know it has something to do with Voldemort." Harry saw the slender boy shiver at the mention of the name. The reaction caused his stomach to turn, and he felt a pinch of guilt in the back of his throat. He had never expected a prudish man like Malfoy to show his fear to openly. Maybe he just wasn't aware he was doing it.

Harry shook his head, focusing back on his work, but he caught himself observing Malfoy only moments later. There was definitely something wrong with him, he had changed _a lot_. That was something his busy-haired know-it-all hadn't been right about.

Malfoy continued his work in silence, and Harry didn't know what to start about next. If he would ramble on about this Death Eater thing, Malfoy would presumably think he was obsessed. Not that he was, he was just dying to know the truth about the boy with the pale, pointed face and the bored, drawling voice.

* * *

After finishing the detention with Malfoy, Harry ran towards the Gryffindor Common room, ready to tell his friends the news about the sleeve. He didn't even bother to go to the Great Hall anymore. The food would be gone, and the House elves would be busy cleaning all the plates. He didn't feel like robbing the Kitchen either. He would have to deal with Dobby and Winky, and he preferred avoiding the two familiar House elves, if he wanted to be back to the Gryffindor Common room before midnight.

He walked up to the Fat Lady as fast as his sore limbs could carry him, and shouted the password without even looking at the woman.

"Hi, 'Mione. Where's Ron?" Harry asked, plopping down onto the chair in front of his friend. At the sight of Hermione's pained expression, he derived that his friend was with Lavander. "Sorry for asking. I just got out of detention." It was remarkable how fast Harry had forgotten his friends weren't talking, now that he had made up with Hermione.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Hermione was reading a book, and Harry shook his head at both the question and the fact that his friend was reading _again_.

"No, I'm starving, but-"

"I brought you some sandwiches. You said it would last until eight, so I decided to bring some here." Hermione responded before Harry could finish his sentence. The words were already on the tip of his tongue, but Hermione made him postpone the moment of truth even longer.

"Thanks," Harry replied gratefully, before taking a large bite out of his bacon sandwich. "You never guess what happened while we were cleaning," he brought out with a mouthful, looking an awful lot like his red-haired friend.

"Something suspicious I suppose?" Hermione asked tiredly. Harry frowned at her uninterested reaction and shrugged. "Malfoy refused to uplift his left sleeve. I dare to bet my fortune at Gringotts that he has that ugly mark on his forearm." Harry took another bite, watching Hermione's reaction.

"Don't exaggerate, Harry. You can't know for sure. And even if he does have it, it doesn't mean he wanted it." It was striking how much Hermione wanted talk highly of the Slytherin.

"You just try to see the good in everybody. Not everyone is good, 'Mione." Harry slowed down his eating pace, chewing every bite carefully before swallowing it. He had craved for food for two long hours, and he wouldn't dispatch it all in one bite.

"Not everyone's bad either. Stop picking fights with him and suspecting him. Maybe you'd be able to see the man he's become." Harry looked at his friend, eyes filled with shock. Was Hermione under the Imperius Curse? He couldn't believe this was the very same girl that had once punched Malfoy harshly in the face.

"What man?" Harry scoffed rudely. Hermione sighed, and looked at him as if he was a four year old.

"A man who's afraid of his destiny. Can't you see he's terrified ever since sixth year started?" she said slowly, putting emphasis on each word. Harry shrugged, waving aside Hermione's wise words.

"It's probably just an act. I don't trust him." It wasn't abnormal that Harry didn't trust the man. although he had insulted Hermione in every way he could, it was only because she was befriended with Harry. Malfoy hated _him, _and therefore all his friends.

"What happened to Silvergreen? Have you heard of him or her?" Harry wasn't pleased with Hermione because she changed the subject, but she was right.

"Gosh! I totally forgot about that. I still haven't checked!" Harry sprang up and made his way out of the common room. He had been so occupied with finding out what Malfoy was up to that he had forgotten to check if Silvergreen had responded yet. He practically ran up to the seventh floor and sprinted three times past the empty wall before entering. Anticipation rushed through his veins, while walking up to the blue box. He took a deep breath and moved it. There was a new note underneath it.

_Dear Harry _

_You sure seem curious about me, don't you? I must admit there are some things I would like to unburden myself off, but unfortunately they're not very easy to talk about. _

_Besides, I wouldn't want to bother you with my silly life. You're probably busy saving the Wizarding World from another attack of You Know Who. _

_However, it has been really nice writing to you._

_Yours Sincerely_

_Silvergreen_

Harry stared at the words, a smile forming on his lips because Silvergreen was obviously avoiding his questions. The curiousness about this girl grew in his stomach as his heart sped up in ecstasy. The cliché about him saving the wizard world didn't annoy him this time. He dropped his bag in a rush and had a piece of parchment within seconds.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_It doesn't really seem fair to me that you know everything about me, but that you haven't spilled any details about who you are. You even use a pseudonym to write to me.__  
__So, you can entrust me some of your secrets. There's nothing I can't handle. _

_What's more, your life doesn't seem silly to me at all. Please feel free to write me an extensive reply._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

He reread his answer several times, just to make sure he would remember what he had written. His smile had been glued on his lips the whole time. He replaced the note, concealing it neatly underneath the navy blue box. Then he turned around to leave the room, pushed open the door only to bump into a tall, slender figure. The man fell onto the ground in a muddle of robes.

"Sorry! I didn't see you - Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Harry cut of his apology, as he saw a blonde head between the black robes. At first he had thought it would have been the person he was writing to, but as he recognized Malfoy seconds before, disappointment filled his stomach.

"I have every right to be here, Potter. I could ask you the same question." Harry knew the boy was right, but that didn't cheer him up at all. All the rapture from getting a reply left his body, upon seeing the grey eyed Death Eater.

"I won't answer it either. I'm not even surprised to see you here," Harry bit back. It only confirmed his presumption.

"And why's that?" Malfoy's voice was cold. But that didn't impress Harry one bit.

"I know you're up to something. And I also know that it's in the Room of Requirement. I saw you here before."

"I saw you here before too, Potter. Are you up to something too?" Malfoy retorted, but Harry could sense he had hit a soft spot. The deeper he dug, the surer he became.

"The only thing I'm up to, is figuring out what you're constantly doing here. Besides, I'm off, I already had to bear with you all afternoon." Harry turned around and left, his coat swirling behind him, leaving a dumbfounded Malfoy before the shrinking door to the Room.

**To be continued…  
Please Review! (I really need your encouraging feedback! Tell me what you think and where you want the story to go!)**


	5. Chapter 5: Friends

**Thanks to all the readers who reviewed! You made it a bit easier to keep me inspirational for this part!  
So, here's the next one. I know the story's developing very slowly, but I really want it to be perfect. I hope you like this one, and don't forget to review! I need the motivation sooo much!**

***Enjoy* ^_^**

Chapter 5  
Friends

Draco was making his way to the Room of Requirement, to see if Potter had already replied to his letter. He knew it had only been one day again, but he couldn't resist going up there. He usually didn't have anyone to talk casually to. Pansy was mostly annoying him about all sorts of random school stuff, or informed him about all the girl's gossip. He appreciated her company, but she was a girl, and as a boy he couldn't fully express himself. As for Vincent and Gregory, they were too dumb to talk about anything interesting.

Just as he was about to enter, he bumped into the writer of the letters. "Sorry! I didn't see you - Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Draco could see the disappointment in Potters eyes. Who did he want to see? Okay, admitted, he knew Potter was _never _pleased to see him, but still, he hadn't expected the man to be disappointed by his presence. He was a _Malfoy. _

"I have every right to be here, Potter. I could ask you the same question," Draco shot back, getting his guard up. Potter was remarkably interested in him lately. Back in the dungeons, Potter had been very curious about his arm. Draco had left his sleeve down, but he should've left both down for it to be less obvious. He hadn't thought of it that much, not expecting Potter to pay attention to it. Of course Potter had figured out the Dark Mark was burned on his skin, he wasn't that stupid.

Draco hated the Mark. It was visible proof of him being a coward. He had let his father force him into joining the Dark side; just like he had let his father choose every single thing in his life. He had no clue which side to be on, actually. How could he? His parents had always taught him pure bloods were like royalty, and he had been convinced about it until he was eleven. But at Hogwarts, everybody was judged equally.

"I won't answer it either. I'm not even surprised to see you here." Potter's tone wasn't very friendly, not that Draco would have expected the Chosen One to be friendly. However, it was weird talking to the person who had written those personal letters to him. Potter was acting very defensive, more defensive than he had been the previous years.

Luckily, the man had no clue he was his pen-friend. It was almost hilarious. _Almost._

"And why's that?" Draco tried to push back his wandering thoughts as much as possible and focus on the green-eyed sixteen-year old standing before him. The latter eyed him suspiciously.

"I know you're up to something. And I also know that it's in the Room of Requirement. I saw you here before." Potter's glance tried to pierce through his poker face. Draco just shrugged.

"I saw you here before too, Potter. Are you up to something too?" He knew his comment wasn't worthy for a Malfoy, but he really wasn't prepared to face an irritated Potter. And he was dying to read what the black haired teen had responded. Since he had just exited the room, it meant he had replied. The thought made Draco's heart speed up, it was difficult to remain angry with Potter.

"The only thing I'm up to, is figuring out what you're constantly doing here. Besides, I'm off, I already had to bear with you all afternoon." The comment turned Draco's excitement into rage, his eyes observing the leaving man. It felt really weird, but in some way it was soothing to know that Potter wanted to know what he was up to. Although it was for the wrong reasons, he actually cared what he was doing. And there were few people who cared. The only one he could actually name was Pansy.

Nobody else. Draco followed Potter with his gaze until he was out of sight and then entered the Room of Requirement. He tried to forget all about Potter's inquisitive peeks. He didn't waste any time, and walked straight to the blue box, grabbing the piece of parchment that was lying underneath it.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_It doesn't really seem fair to me that you know everything about me, but that you haven't spilled any details about who you are. You even use a pseudonym to write to me.__  
__So, you can entrust me some of your secrets. There's nothing I can't handle. _

_What's more, your life doesn't seem silly to me at all. Please feel free to write me an extensive reply._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

Draco scanned the letter, a smirk forming onto his lips. Potter had no clue who he was. That was the best part. If Potter would find out that Draco was the one responding, he would hex the living hell out of him, suspecting it to be a way to deliver him to the Dark Lord or something like that.

Draco, on the contrary, had no such plans. It just felt nice to be able to talk to Potter without calling each other names, or without his friends interfering. He had wanted to do that ever since first year. Unfortunately for him, Potter would no longer thing his life _wasn't silly at all._ He grabbed a quill and parchment, and started writing his third letter.

_Dear Harry_

_If I would tell you who I was, you would probably stop writing to me. Since I appreciate our little conversations, I'll keep my identity a secret for a while longer._

_As to inform you a little more about me, I sometimes have quarrels with my friends too. Most of the time, I feel like they don't really understand what I'm talking about. Most of my friends aren't as trusted as your friends are, if I might say so._

_Anyway, I didn't reply to your letter to pour my heart out, I just wanted to know more about you, and what you're up to here at Hogwarts._

_Now I'll be the one expecting an extensive reply._

_Yours sincerely_

_Silvergreen_

Draco smiled as he put his reply under the blue velvet box, knowing Potter would not be happy with this short, vague reply. For one thing, Potter wasn't allowed to find out who he was. Then he would have nothing left to look forward to. Draco knew Potter was the last person who could find out about his task. He hadn't even told Pansy yet. It was really tempting to spill the details to the raven-haired boy, more tempting than spilling them to his friend.

Ever since Draco was little, the boy had had a certain effect on him, that he couldn't quite describe. He had already admired the boy before ever meeting him. His mother used to tell stories about how The Boy Who Lived defeated the Dark Lord without even knowing he had done it. When they had finally met, the Weasel had been there and everything had been ruined. His chance for friendship with the Boy Who Lived had failed.

* * *

The next morning, Harry was eating breakfast with his two friends in the Great Hall. It had been a while since they had been together. Thanks to Silvergreen, things were improving again. Harry smiled at his two friends, feeling happy things would go back to normal again.

"So, what did your mysterious writer say?" Hermione asked, poking into her cereal as she spoke. She wasn't very at ease with Ron sitting with them today. Harry could tell because he threw the Red-head nervous glances every once in a while.

"Not much. Silvergreen doesn't want to give away her identity," Harry replied, grabbing an apple, and taking a large bite. That was something bothering him a bit. Why would she want to keep it a secret?

"Silvergreen? Who's that?" Ron asked with a mouthful of eggs. Hermoine rolled her eyes at him, but didn't say anything. Harry saw her throwing a quick glance at Lavender, and they she continued poking her cereal. He felt sorry for her, but he couldn't stand them being separate anymore.

"Just a girl I've been writing to," Harry explained. "She helped me out with making up to Hermione. And now I just want to know who she is." Ron nodded at this, too occupied with munching his eggs to give a reply.

"How do you know it's a girl?" Hermione asked. Her look was skeptical, just like always when she didn't agree with something. Harry swallowed back a sigh and reached into his pockets.

"It's a girl's handwriting. Look," Harry pulled out the letter from yesterday and handed it over. "I don't know any guy who writes like that."

"You can't know for sure Harry. It could be a neat person," Hermione added, convinced of her opinion after throwing a quick look at the handwriting.

"Don't start, Hermione. It looks like a girl's handwriting to me, mate," Ron added. He snatched the parchment out of Hermione's hands and turned to Lavender. Hermione's look was almost murderous. Harry had never seen Hermione so angry before, and he just watched as Ron poked Lavender to get her attention.

"Lav, don't you think this letter was written by a girl?" He asked. Lavender smiled at him and nodded before kissing him. This was even too much for Harry, and he could only imagine what Hermione was going through.

"You never guess who I ran into yesterday, at the Room of Requirement," Harry said, to draw Hermione's attention to him instead of to the flirting session, and to change the subject at the same time.

"Who?" Hermione asked without averting her eyes from Ron. Harry could see the disgust on her face, and quickly responded: "Malfoy. I'm telling you, he's up to something. I think there's something in the Room that he needs for a task or something." This seemed to draw her attention back to him.

"Harry. I already told you Malfoy isn't that bad. He's not You Know Who, he's just a boy." Harry could only disagree with her. He didn't want to start another fights, so he just explained his opinion.

"But I'm sure he is planning on doing something bad. He has this suspicious behavior around him," Harry added, sipping from his pumpkin juice. He had thrown the leftovers from his apple into his plate.

"You're overreacting. For all I know, he could be the one sending you the letters." At this point, Ron was catching up with the conversation. Harry shook his head at Hermione's words.

"Malfoy? No way. I'm telling you, it's a girl," Ron added. Harry smiled at his friend, but he quickly wiped it off his face, not wanting to hurt Hermione. Sadly enough, it was already too late.

"I see you're both taking sides again. I'll leave you, I really don't want to spoil the moment," Hermione said shortly, before rising from the table without having eaten her cereal. She left the Great Hall in a up-beat tempo, not looking back again.

Harry sighed. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to talk to both his friends after all.

* * *

Draco was sitting at the Slytherin House table, having breakfast with Pansy. In front of him, he could see Potter and his friends. He always took the same seat, he had ever since first year. The Golden Trio had chosen their own spot too. Draco had always been able to watch them. And Potter had always been able to watch him. He was poking in his food, watching Potter talk to Granger. He sometimes wished he could hear what they were saying.

"Draco, you're dreaming. Your bacon is getting cold," Pansy remarked, waving one hand before his eyes. Draco looked up, slightly startled. Pansy smiled briefly, cutting up her eggs as she spoke.

"Sorry. I'm not very hungry today, I guess," Draco replied absently. He turned back to the Gryffindor table again, still poking his bacon.

"Draco, I can sense something's wrong. I see you're struggling with something, love." Pansy leaned forward to capture Draco's look. Draco frowned, and sighed before replying.

"Don't call me that Pansy. I'm fine," he bit, avoiding the question. He couldn't tell Pansy what had happened. Firstly, he didn't want to lose his best friend. Secondly, he wasn't allowed to tell anyone. Besides, Pansy would be worried sick if he told her. Sadly for Draco, the girl didn't want to drop the subject.

"Does it have something to do with Potter? I see you staring at him all the time." She took a bite from her eggs, and chewed them, waiting for an answer.

"I don't stare, Pansy. I'm just trying to figure out why he's so obsessed with me all of the time," Draco responded, surprised by the truthfulness of his answer.

"Obsessed?" Pansy repeated, her lips curling up in laughter. She threw back her long black hair graciously and continued: "I thought it was the other way around." With those words, she poked Draco friendly.

"Shush, I'm not obsessed with him, you know. The entire _school_ is drooling on his shoes, not me. I'm just, …" Draco stopped to think about how he could describe the relationship with Potter.

"In love?" Pansy tried. Draco's eyes widened in shock, and he briefly turned to his friend.

"NO! Stop it already Pansy, you're getting on my nerves," Draco growled, trying to keep his voice down. The last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of his fellow Slytherins to Pansy talking about loving Potter.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were this touchy today. Interested then?" Pansy smiled, her dark eyes piercing into Draco's clear ones. There was only playfulness in them, she didn't want to hurt him.

"No, Pansy. You're not helpful. I'm just _observing_. That's all." Draco felt utterly lost, he hadn't been expecting Pansy to be in her teasing-mood.

"I didn't know observing someone included sending him letters," Pansy sang in a silent, high pitched tone. At this, Draco gave her his full attention, for the first time this morning.

"You know about the letters? How?" Draco shrieked. He would have preferred telling her about the Dark Lord's plans than about Potter's letters.

"Don't get all worked up, Draco love. I just happened to come across them when I wanted to lend your Potion's essay for that retarded Slughorn. I'm hardly getting by. I preferred Snape, but well. So tell me, how are things between you and lover boy?" Pansy teased.

"He's not my lover boy. He was just so foolish to hide his letter in … the Owlery and I found it. I wrote back, and so did he." Draco explained, not wanting to spill the details about the Room of Requirement. She would certainly want to know why he had gone to the Room of Requirement in the first place. And, he wasn't entirely sure she even knew it existed.

"How romantic," Pansy mused, patting Draco on his arm. "I understand why you're constantly with your head in the clouds. How long has it been now?" she asked. Draco couldn't help but getting hot-tempered.

"How long has what been?" Draco grumbled. He had totally forgotten about his breakfast, which was left untouched in his plate. Probably cold by now.

"Come on, Draco! Lighten up. Isn't that something to be cheerful about? I know you're not straight, love." She admitted it proudly, although she had been furious upon hearing it for the first time. She had once been in love with him.

"Stop calling me love! The fact that I'm gay doesn't mean I fancy that mindless prick." This only made Pansy smile wider and brighter. Then all of a sudden her face fell.

"Why didn't you tell me about Potter's letters?" she whined, a pained look in her eyes.

"That's personal, Pansy," Draco sighed. He had been so secretive about everything, and he didn't know why. He hadn't talked to Pansy like this in a while, and he had to admit it was cheering him up. "I'm sorry," he added. Pansy's face lit up again, and Draco returned her smile.

He hadn't been right about not having trusted friends like Potter. He did.

**To be continued…**

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6: The Mark

**Hi! To all those who reviewed, Thanks a lot, you're the ones who made me write this next part! For all the other readers, please let me know what you think and whether you have any ideas I could put into the story.**

**This is chapter 6, I know the chapters are really short (I'm overloaded with other stuff) and the story's developing very slowly, but that's the way I want it. I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 6  
The Mark

For the last two hours on Monday, the Gryffindors had to attend Defense Against the Dark Arts along with the Slytherins. Harry sat next to Neville. He wasn't very happy with the way they were paired up, but even working with Hermione was like hell when Snape interfered.

"Today, we'll be talking about the Imperius Curse," Snape started in a monotonous voice. "When cast successfully, it places the victim completely under the caster's control. However, a person with a strong will can be able to-" Harry scribbled down some words, but soon he lost his concentration.

Since Professor Moody had taught them about the Unforgivables in fourth year, and Harry had even tried to use one last year, there wasn't much to learn about. Hoping Hermione would lend him her notes with specific things Snape would've added, he looked around the room. Two seats from him, Malfoy was jotting down what Snape was saying, acting like the perfect student as usual.

Harry looked at his left arm, trying to see whether the Dark Mark was underneath his white blouse. Harry then smiled, went into his pocket and pulled out his wand under his desk. He pointed it at Malfoy's sleeve and focused his best to use a non verbal spell.

Luckily for Harry, at the begin of this year they had started learning silent spell in this very subject. As the small button was undone, Harry had to restrain from jubilating enthusiastically. Now he focused on moving the sleeve. Just as he was about to see the bare skin above Malfoy's wrists, when the latter turned around, looking at Harry furiously and pulling his sleeve down again.

The grey eyes pierced through his, and Harry found it hard not to look away. The intense gaze made him want to sink through the ground. He could feel his head was becoming crimson. Damn. Why didn't it work?

"Potter. I know it's very difficult for you to focus on the subject material, but please try to make an effort for us. It wouldn't hurt Mr. Longbottom to pass for the Defense Against The Dark Arts' class for once." At Snape's words, Neville's head turned as even redder than Harry's, while the Golden Boy only rolled his eyes. He looked back at Malfoy, and saw the blonde smirking at them. The smirk made Harry's blood boil, and he was ready to hex the life out of the Slytherin, but focused on the Imperius curse instead. He let his mind wander to what he would be able to do if he put Malfoy under it.

After what seemed an eternity, the class was finally dismissed. Harry threw everything in his bag and prepared to leave. He had forgotten about his little moment with the blonde, and wanted to get the missing notes from his best friend. He glanced at Hermione, who was still finishing hers. She waved at him to go ahead, so Harry exited the dim Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom, which was decorated with adorning gruesome pictures of victims of the Dark Arts. Typically Snape.

As Harry made his way to the Library, where Hermione would go after finishing her notes, he was pushed into an empty classroom by none other than –

"Malfoy! What do you think you're doing?" Harry exclaimed, looking up into the eyes of a furious Draco Malfoy. Harry was pushed against the wall, Malfoy holding on to his collar tightly. Although both boys had had several fights, it was the first time Harry truly felt that Malfoy intruded his personal space.

"I don't like people touching me unwantedly, Potter," Malfoy growled. As he spoke, Harry could feel the Slytherin's hot breath falling onto his mouth. There were only a few inches between their lips, their noses almost touching. The look in Malfoy's eyes sent shivers down his spine, which made him feel very uncomfortable and Harry flinched. Shock streamed through his veins and left no space for anger.

Why was he so affected by Malfoy violating him with physical force? Was it because he his pointy face was so close that he could count the small amount of freckles on his nose?

"I don't want to see you touching my clothes, or I swear I'll hex you before the Dark Lord does, Potter, do I make myself clear?" These words seemed to activate Harry's brain again and he tried to push the slender man off. The Slytherin was surprisingly powerful.

"I'm not your doll, Malfoy. You can't tell me what to do," Harry shot back, although not very convinced. His body did not want to listen to what he was telling it to do. The closeness of Malfoy's body had caught Harry off guard, and the raven-haired boy didn't know what to do. A strange feeling made its way through his vains, and it cost all of his power to focus on the hatred for the blonde.

"I'm telling you Potter, stay away from me. Or next Sunday, I'll hex you." With those words, Malfoy let go of him and left the room. The heat that had been radiating off Malfoy's body lingered for a moment on Harry's, as Harry's mind and body came to life again.

Harry didn't know what just had happened. Had he been intimidated by Malfoy? Why hadn't he been able to push the boy off? He shook off the uneasy feeling and left for the Library.

* * *

Harry decided not to tell Hermione about the encounter with Malfoy. He was so fed up with the blonde, that when he reached the library, he changed his mind and headed to the Room of Requirement. She would sense something had happened, and she would probably guess it had something to do with Malfoy too. He didn't want her to know he had tried to lift his sleeve.

"_Harry! You shouldn't use the silent spells on _students_!" _He heard his friend's voice in his head. Her chestnut eyes would pierce through his severely.

Harry entered the room, still deep in thought about lifting Malfoy's blouse, and walked blindly to the navy blue box. Maybe Silvergreen would know how to get his mind off of things.

_Dear Harry_

_If I would tell you who I was, you would probably stop writing to me. Since I appreciate our little conversations, I'll keep my identity a secret for a while longer._

_As to inform you a little more about me, I sometimes have quarrels with my friends too. Most of the time, I feel like they don't really understand what I'm talking about. Most of my friends aren't as trusted as your friends are, if I might say so._

_Anyway, I didn't reply to your letter to pour my heart out, I just wanted to know more about you, and what you're up to here at Hogwarts._

_Now I'll be the one expecting an extensive reply._

_Yours sincerely_

_Silvergreen_

Harry frowned as he read the letter. He had hoped her reply would be a bit more relieving. On the contrary, it only contained information to ponder about some more. Why did Silvergreen want to stay anonymous? Was she hiding something? Harry instantly grabbed a piece of parchment and sat down at the desk. He needed to know who she was.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_I'm sorry to hear your friends aren't as trusted as mine. I wonder why that is. Maybe they're just a bit distant because they're experiencing trouble just like me. I suggest you go talk to them - just like you suggested to me - you'll see they're not that bad at all._

_As for your anonymity, it's a pity you don't want to tell who you are. I can tell by your name that you're from Slytherin. Since you're probably from Slytherin, are you familiar with Malfoy? He's a stuck-up platina blonde sixth year. I've got detention with him for several weeks and it's really irritating._

_I hope you're not a friend of his. We're like sworn enemies. If you are, don't let him restrain you from writing to me, that would be regretful. _

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

The raven haired teen put the letter under the velvet box and continued wondering about Silvergreen as he left the Room. She couldn't be Pansy, now could she? Harry nearly vomited at the thought. If she was, he would most definitely stop writing. He would burn all the letters he had left. What a gruesome thought.

Hoping the answer would tell him Silvergreen didn't know the blonde personally (even though another part hoped she did – he was dying to know what he was up to), he made his way to the library, to meet Hermione.

* * *

Draco was boiling with rage as he left the small, unused classroom he had pushed Potter in. Fear had rushed through his veins as the Boy Who Lived had lifted up his sleeve. The whole classroom _could_ have seen what he had become. Potter had crossed a line.

Luckily, he had sensed something was wrong. He had almost strangled the black haired teen, the only thing withholding him was the possible answer lying in the Room of Requirement. That was his only hope. Once Potter would find out about that too, _he_ would be the one to strangle _him_.

After doing some homework in the Slytherin Common room with Pansy, he got up to go check if Potter had replied. "I'm off to the Owlery, okay?" he told Pansy as he made for the wall, giving entrance to the rest of the Castle.

"Sure, Draco," Pansy squealed, her face lighting up. The blonde knew she was teasing him with Potter, but after piercing the latter in the wall earlier, it wasn't very welcome.

"Don't start," Draco grumbled, shooting his friend a glance. He wanted to exit the Slytherin Common room, but he couldn't when Pansy turned to him, sweeping her dark hair as she did so. The darkness of it reminded him of a certain person he didn't want to be reminded of.

"How did you find the letter anyway?" Pansy asked, her dark blue eyes revealing her curiousness.

"I just saw him entering the Owlery and found that letter, why?" Draco answered, only turning half to her. He didn't feel like talking to her now, wanting to see if Potter had replied. He was so pissed with the boy that he really needed something to calm him down. He knew he was good at lying, but when he was confronted with his friends, that ability was certainly reduced.

"No reason. Is that the reason why you've been avoiding me? Or is there another one?" Pansy asked. Draco's pulse sped up, suddenly feeling very hot. Why was she asking all these questions. She hadn't asked them before.

"No, there's no other reason Pansy, can I go now?" Draco asked, his voice sounding bored and irritated. But Pansy saw he was faking it. She could sense he tensed.

"If you won't be honest with me, I'll be honest with you. I heard from Theo you were marked," she spilled. Draco looked at her alarmed. Theo had what? All this time he had been trying to hide the shame from his friends, and Theodore Nott had to go and blab it.

"How does he know?" Draco spat, wanting to hex the living hell out of Theo for selling that crap to Pansy. Who else would he have told. Fear crept into Draco's body silently.

"His father is a Death Eater, Draco. Your father had told Mr. Nott. So it's only normal Theo knows. He thought that I should know since I'm your friend." She spoke in a way that revealed she wasn't happy hearing it from Theo.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco sneered at his own friend, even though _he _had been the one not to tell _her. _The angriness from before returned within seconds.

"I was waiting until you were ready to tell me. But I can't do that anymore, I can tell it's haunting you." Her tone was more soothing now, as to show Draco she wasn't really angry with him. That only made Draco feel terrible, because he was the one that had hurt her by being dishonest.

"It's fine," Draco sighed. He didn't want to talk about it. Pansy had known all along. And she wasn't mad at him for it. He had been a lousy friend. That only made things worse. Telling Pansy should've been a relief, it was more like the opposite.

"He's making you do something horrible, isn't he? How could your father do that to you?" Pansy sighed, her blue eyes turning disapproving. "My parents aren't anything like him. They wouldn't put that kind of pressure on my shoulders. When I'm seventeen, they'll give me the choice whether to join the Dark Lord or not," she said, playing with her hair as she did so. Draco could tell she was nervously waiting for his reaction. She had just knitted on another sentence, just to make her question less obvious.

"He is making me do something horrible, Pansy. I don't want anything to happen to you. That's one of the main reasons I haven't told you yet. And I'm not going to either." At this Draco smiled briefly. Pansy nodded, a smile replacing the nervous frown in her features and she quickly added: "Go already, I can see you're quivering!"

At this, Draco smiled widely, gratefulness written all over his face. He made for the stone wall again, his mind still on his task. Draco tried not to rush up to the seventh floor, keeping his cool as he went. The fact that Pansy knew about the Mark had taken a lot of weight off his chest. At first it hadn't, but now he could feel the negative energy flow out of him. Feeling merrier and merrier as he thought about it, he entered the room and checked underneath the usual box. He had even forgotten about his angry encounter with Potter.

The content made Draco freeze in movement, his heart sinking into his chest.

**To be continued…**

**Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7: Do You Know Malfoy?

**Here's the next one. There's still more coming, so enjoy this part! And a Happy Valentine's Day everyone (I'm late I know, I had to finish this one yesterday so)**

**Anyway, Enjoy!**

Chapter 7  
Do You Know Malfoy?

_Dear Silvergreen_

_I'm sorry to hear your friends aren't as trusted as mine. I wonder why that is. Maybe they're just a bit distant because they're experiencing trouble just like me. I suggest you go talk to them - just like you suggested to me - you'll see they're not that bad at all._

_As for your anonymity, it's a pity you don't want to tell who you are. I can tell by your name that you're from Slytherin. Since you're probably from Slytherin, are you familiar with Malfoy? He's a stuck-up platina blonde sixth year. I've got detention with him for several weeks and it's really irritating._

_I hope you're not a friend of his. We're like sworn enemies. If you are, don't let him restrain you from writing to me, that would be regretful. _

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

The content of Potter's letter made Draco freeze in movement, his heart sinking into his chest. The jolly feeling from before vanished into thin air. After taking a few calming breaths, Draco took his quill and wrote his reply to the back of the letter. Potter couldn't have a clue. He wasn't that smart. _But Granger was, _Draco thought frightened. Hoping the nosy Gryffinodr wouldn't meddle in Potter's business, he focused on composing a reply

_Dear Harry_

_You're right, they're not that bad. Thanks for the advice. As regards Draco Malfoy, I do not know him personally. I've seen him around sometimes, but that's as far as my knowledge reaches. _

_Having detention with somebody you detest must be hard. How come you have detention with him, did you have a fight with him? I heard from your notorious hostility with the boy, so that would most definitely not be surprising. _

_I'm dying to read your reply._

_Yours sincerely_

_Silvergreen_

Draco read his reply and smiled. It had been hard not to write some nasty words to the Gryffindor. Draco knew it had only been a matter of time before their animosity entered the conversation, but reading it on paper was rather chocking. He also knew Potter couldn't prove he was the one writing, but it still scared him.

Was he really that bad? His hatred for the teen increased. How could that mindless idiot ask such a stupid thing? He could be _anyone, _and still the Chosen One kept writing. The only thing he needed to do was put a curse on this reply, and The Boy Who Lived would be The Boy Who Got Killed By A Letter.

Luckily for the Gryffindor, Draco had no such intentions. He only wanted to talk to him, but up to now the conversation had been very disappointing. What did he expect? Had he hoped Potter felt the same way he did? Or that Potter hoped they would become friends sooner or later? What a foolish thing to do.

Draco regretted going up to the Room, and returned to the Slytherin Common Room. Maybe it would be better not to reply anymore.

* * *

During Charms on Tuesday, Harry found it very hard to focus. The previous letter from Silvergreen had been on his mind the entire morning, and he was waiting for noon to come, to go check whether there was a reply. Would she know Malfoy? Would she give him some useful information about his plans?

Harry didn't get his hopes up. It wouldn't be wise. Hermione was sitting next to him, listening to Professor Flitwick lecturing them about Episkey, a spell to heal minor injuries. Since Healing was a very difficult part about magic, and Hermione was very interested in becoming a Healer, she had kept full attention the entire time.

She turned to him at once, whispering: "You should pay attention Harry, this is important." Obvious to the stripe of ink on her face, she drowned her quill into the small jar again, continuing to take notes.

"I'm sorry. I'm hungry." Harry lied. He didn't even try to sound convinced.

"Is Silvergreen on your mind?" Hermione guessed, seeing through his watery lie.

"Yeah. I asked her if she knows Malfoy." Hermione rolled her eyes at the mention of the female personal pronoun, and sighed silently.

"You don't know if Silvergreen's a boy or a girl, Harry. You shouldn't jump to conclusions. Nor should you talk about Malfoy to someone you hardly know."

"Why don't you help me find out what he's up to? That would make it a whole lot easier." Harry quirked an eyebrow at her last sentence. Why did she care that he talked about Malfoy to strangers? If it was up to him, the whole wizard world should know the boy was a Death Eater.

"I'm telling you, he's fine. It's _his _problem, and I'm not interfering with your convictions Harry. You'd better pay attention, because I'm very sure Professor Flitwick will ask Episkey on the finals."

"It's only October, 'Mione. I have all year to study for the finals. And Malfoy won't stop being Malfoy because of some difficult spell." At this, Hermione sighed again and turned back to the professor. Harry could tell she disapproved. He didn't pay any attention to it though, he really wanted to know if Silvergreen knew Malfoy.

As the class was dismissed, Harry ran up to the seventh floor to look for a reply. He didn't worry about anybody seeing him enter the room, he was in too much of a hurry. He ran up to the oak desk as soon as he entered, opening the letter underneath it in overhaste.

"I do not know him personally," Harry read, and disappointment filled his body. The adrenalin running through his veins until now evaporated like snow before the sun. Harry sat back and thought about Malfoy. Why was he on his mind so often? He just couldn't stop thinking about him. Harry was convinced it was all due to Malfoy's dubious behavior.

He was so silent, trying not to stand out, like he did before. Something was not right, and Harry sensed it. He was really good at predicting such things, and Hermione was wrong this time, Harry just knew it.

Harry grabbed a new piece of parchment and started to reply.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_I just had a word with Malfoy, that's all. Too bad a teacher heard it. I'll be stuck with him for a couple of weeks more. Fortunately, Dumbledore has been generous with his punishment. I won't worry about it, however, it's still five days 'till Sunday._

_I'd rather hear about you. You told me you wanted to unburden yourself from certain things. I can promise you they'll be safe with me. I just know I'll be able to help you through them, Silvergreen. _

_I'm the one dying to know you better, and for a reply._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

He reread his answer before he put it back, neatly, making sure no one else could find it by coincidence. Harry then left the Room again, his mind still going on about Malfoy.

* * *

Draco was sitting next to Pansy in the Slytherin Common room, trying not to think about Potter too much. He kept wondering whether the boy had replied yet, but he had promised himself not to go back again. This had to stop. What would Potter do now that his pen-friend didn't know the notorious Malfoy? Would he be disappointed? Angry? Draco's blood started to boil just thinking about Potter hating him.

Pansy seemed to notice Draco was sulking. She poked him playfully, saying: "Was your love letter unanswered yesterday?" She obviously had no idea Potter loathed him.

"Quite the opposite," Draco bit. He was so pissed, having to watch the Gryffindor during Herbology for two hours. The man had been sitting right in front of him, and had shot him a few leaf green glances, but they hadn't said a word. Potter was probably scared they would end up having detention some more. "_He's a stuck-up platina blonde sixth year. I've got detention with him for several weeks and it's really irritating," _whispered a mocking voice in Draco's head.

"Tell me more," Pansy pleaded, curiousness dripping off her face. She had already put down her quill, but as her parchment was still empty, she hadn't done much homework before she started talking either.

"He asked if I knew _Malfoy," _Draco told Pansy. "He told me he had detention with him. Apparently he finds it annoying." It wasn't surprising, Draco had experienced the detention on Sunday to be annoying too, but Potter was just so, … _infuriatingly_ foolish.

"He's an ass, Draco. I already told you not to waste your time on him. Once he discovers you're the one writing to him, he'll hex you. I'm telling you," but before Pansy could finish the rest of her sentence, Draco interrupted. "Don't. I'm not in the mood to be taught a lesson."

"Aww, poor Draco." Pansy seemed to be in a pestering-mood, and Draco rolled his eyes at her.

"Stop mocking me, Pansy. I'm serious. As a matter of fact, it aren't _love _letters. I'm _not _in love with that selfish little prick," Draco spit, feeling better now that he had properly defended himself. Calling Potter names was a good way to get rid of his negative energy.

"Whatever you say, love." Pansy looked in her book again, usuccesfully trying not to show her interest.

"Stop calling me nick-names, Pansy. It's embarrassing. Potter is just dying to find out about my task. Once he does, and I know he will, I'm dead." Draco's eyes turned dull, dreading the future.

"What's your task?" Pansy asked, worry filling her voice. Draco looked at his feet, the miserable feeling from before returning in a heartbeat. Why had he brought the damn task up?

"I have to kill someone," he replied, his voice emotionless, his throat catching fire from angriness. If his temper kept raising like this he would _actually _be able to kill someone. Pansy remained silent for a while, then whispered fearfully: "Who?"

"Dumbledore," Draco replied, his voice still cold. He wasn't able to handle his faith. Either way, he would end up dead. Maybe he'd rather have Potter kill him than the Dark Lord. Pansy didn't ask anything else, they just sat there in silence. She understood he needed some time to get his mind straight. She didn't bother him for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Harry was making his way to Potions with Ron. It was their only class on Wednesday, but they would need the extra time to make the enormous pile of homework. They didn't have any O. nor N.E.W.T's this year, but still they were packed with homework. Since Harry had spend the entire Sunday afternoon cleaning cold suits of armor, he would have to double his speed in catching up.

Hermione was nowhere to be seen, as he was with Ron now. This tiny fact formed a small pit in his stomach, but he tried to ignore it. They were still early, which was surprising.

"I still have to finish my notes from Charms this afternoon. And I'm late with the Potions essay too. I hope Slughorn gives me an extra day. If I hadn't been forced to clean half of the castle last Sunday, I would be able to practice Quidditch a bit. The season's almost started," Harry whined. Ron was a friend to whom he could tell everything, without him giving unpleasant retorts. He loved Hermione, he really did, but sometimes it was better just to go with the flow.

"It's Malfoy's fault, Harry. Don't worry, we'll make him pay for that. Oh, when you talk about the Devil, he shows his tail," Ron replied, pointing to the corridor. Malfoy was striding through the dungeons like they were his own. They were, actually.

"Look who's here," Harry snapped. Seeing Malfoy made him tighten his jaw with anger.

"I'm here to attend my class, Potter," Malfoy drawled, rolling his light grey eyes as he stopped in front of the Hero.

"So, how's the arm?" Harry fired, trying to put as much venom in his voice as possible. His eyes pierced through Malfoy's. He saw Malfoy's silver orbs cloud with anger, but he could discover something else to: _fear_. He had hit a soft spot.

"It's fine, how's the Scar?" Malfoy shot back, not even flinching. But Harry had seen enough. The look in the teen's eyes had proved to him that there was definitely black ink burned in the pale skin.

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy. You don't want another week of detention, now do you?" Ron bit, stepping forward to help his friend.

"Watch out, Weasley. Potter might get detention as well if you continue like this. He wouldn't want to miss Quidditch, would he?" Malfoy sneered, his nose curling up as he spoke to the Redhead.

"You're scum, Malfoy," Ron growled, taking another step forward.

"Let him be Ron, he's not worth it," Harry warned, pulling Ron back as far as he could. The ginger-haired teen didn't move, but kept looking at Malfoy furiously.

"Of course, our little hero has to protect his friends from the evil Malfoy. You never miss a shot to save the day, do you Potter?" Malfoy grinned, gathering up his inches. He seemed far too happy with where the conversation was going. Harry curled his lip, detesting the boy even more now they were fighting again.

"Oh, you're just eaten up with jealousy. At least I _have_ friends to protect, Malfoy!" Harry bellowed, clenching his fists, ready to battle. Now Ron was the one to prevent Harry from causing the blonde severe damage.

"Unlike the rest of the school, I'm not a fan of yours. You'll first have to beat the Dark Lord, before you'll be a Hero in my eyes, Potter," Draco hissed, a grey fire blazing in his eyes.

"Since he's your master now, you should call him by his name, _Draco," _Harry growled in a whispering voice. Malfoy's eyes widened in shock, but then everyone went silent as Slughorn made his way through the dungeons.

"Come on students, go inside. Oh, hello Harry," professor Slughorn greeted upon his arrival. He looked at both boys, shrugged and went into the Potion's class room. Harry threw one last death glare at the blonde, before entering.

The glance he got back was as cold as ice.

**To be continued…**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8: Frozen

**Hi! Here's the next part. I know the story's developing very slowly, but I promise if you hang around for a little while longer it'll become great!**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 8  
Frozen

Draco gave up on reading and sat back in his chair, looking at the great amount of bookshelves in the room. He was sitting in the Library, alone. He soon drifted off in his thoughts, Potter haunting them immediately. To be honest, Draco hadn't seen Potter's insult coming. He should have, but he hadn't. For the umpteenth time in his life, he cursed himself for being so blind and naïve.

Had he sincerely hoped Potter would be able to help him with his task? He had believed the Hero would have known what to do? He hadn't even questioned that the Chosen One wouldn't _want _to help him.

However, it was obvious he loathed him. Draco knew very well that all they had ever been were enemies, but now that they were becoming young adults, he had hoped those childish beliefs would have disappeared. His father never liked the bespectacled teen, not Draco. He hadn't even truly hated the Boy Who Lived. There had always been some sort of admiration present, jealousy sometimes. Of course he had become enemies with The Boy Who Lived because his father wanted it. But on the other hand, the only way to get his attention and to be _someone _to Potter was by pestering him.

How could he have known he would become Potter's worst enemy by trying to get his attention? How could he have known he would have to kill the Headmaster of the school, who had gladly invited him to take classes here? How could he have known any of this?

As Draco was trying to drown himself in self pity, Pansy tapped his shoulder. He had been trying to study the theory of Transfiguration, but to be honest, he had just wanted to avoid talking to anyone. Especially Pansy.

"Hi, Draco. I'm sorry to interrupt," she said in a low voice. She took a seat across from him, taking a quick peek in his book and then focusing on him again.

"Hi, Pansy," Draco replied tersely.

"I know what's on your mind. I've overheard your fight with Potter," Pansy told. She spoke quickly as if she had wanted to say that for a long time. She paused, to see Draco's reaction, but continued as Draco kept staring blankly at his pages.

"He's not worth it, Draco. Believe me, you're a good person. You don't deserve to be treated the way he treats you." Naturally, Pansy stood up for him, because she was his friend, but Draco truly believed he deserved to be treated the way Potter did. It was the way bad guys were treated.

"I'm not a Saint, Pansy. I've insulted him as many times as he insulted me."

"And still, he's the good guy, and you're the bad guy. How does that make sense?" Pansy fired, trying to keep her voice down, unsuccessfully. It was obvious she had wanted to speak to him for a while.

"I'm in the wrong family, Pans. And in the wrong House. Of all people, you should understand." Draco closed his book, realizing it was pointless to keep watching the lines of words.

"I do. I'm just saying you should stop wasting your time on him. He believes you're stuck-up, but he's an arrogant bastard himself. He just wants everyone to know about the mark, so that they'll treat you like trash. I won't let that happen, Draco." Admiration for his friend filled Draco's heart, but fear took the overhand as he replied.

"Stay out of it. It'll happen eventually. You heard him. He's convinced I'm carrying it, and it won't take long before he has convinced that old lunatic," Draco said bitterly. The mention of the white-grey-haired man gave him goose bumps.

"You're not planning on writing him again, are you?" Pansy questioned, worriedly.

"No. I haven't written since Monday. If he finds out about that, he'll probably think I'll deliver him to the Dark Lord personally."

"You shouldn't respond. Just ignore him. He's not worth our time."

"I'm really tired now, Pansy. I need a moment to myself," Draco sighed, closing the book and looking up at his friend for the first time. His eyes literally begged for solitude.

"Okay. I'm there for you if you need me, okay?" Pansy said, patting him gently on the shoulder, before leaving the Library, under the watchful eye of Madame Pince.

Draco sunk in his chair, disappointment and despair filling his body. It had been two days since he had heard from Potter. It was hard not to go up to the room to find that letter, but Draco knew it would even be more difficult to ignore the navy blue velvet box when he would go up there to finish the Vanishing Cabinet.

* * *

Harry was out at the Quidditch pitch. You could hardly see him, since he was flying his Firebolt. All you could see was a small black dot in the evening sky.

Harry had come out here to think. Or rather _not _to think. It was Thursday evening, and he still hadn't received a reply from Silvergreen. He didn't understand why, but maybe he had somehow hurt her feelings. Maybe she didn't want to talk about her, maybe she only wanted to know stuff about him.

"_It's not very safe to write to someone you don't know" _Harry heard Hermione's voice in his head. Was it safe to tell her about him? Either way, Harry hadn't spilled that much information. He had just randomly talked, or rather written, to her.

The fact that she hadn't replied pissed Harry off. It pissed him off more than Malfoy had done Wednesday during Potions. He was circling around the pitch at a top speed, trying to forget all about the castle beneath him. Why did he have to be the Chosen One? Why couldn't he just be a random student, writing to another student. Why couldn't he just be like the rest?

When Harry jumped off his broomstick, he could hardly feel his limbs. The October weather had numbed his body, but his mind was as messy as it was before. It seemed impossible to ban Malfoy and Silvergreen from his mind.

He headed for the dressing rooms, but stopped in his tracks when he saw a black figure sitting on the grandstand. He walked up to the person, recognizing the blonde hair and the pointy features at once.

"Malfoy. What are you doing here?" Harry snapped. The fact that the teen had been sitting here all this time made his stomach turn. He had come here to be alone, not be shadowed by the boy torturing his mind.

"I came here to think. Is that prohibited too, Potter?" Malfoy replied coolly. Harry sighed. He wouldn't admit it, but Malfoy was probably right. He had every right to be here.

"Whatever. I know you're up to something anyway. I won't forget about it, you know." Harry heard how childish he sounded, and glared at taller boy to make his words more mature.

"I was here before you. I know you're trying to save the school again. It's annoyingly irritating," Malfoy bit back, his eyes as cold as the evening air. Harry stepped closer. There weren't any teachers here, so nobody could stop him if he attacked the blonde.

Out of the blue, he grabbed the boy's arm and pulled his sleeve with an unexpected force.

"What the- Potter!" Malfoy screeched, trying to pull away, but Harry's grip was firm. The black Mark was clearly visible in the twilight.

"I knew it. I just-" But Harry couldn't finish his sentence. He fell over onto the ground like wood, unable to move. Malfoy stood before him, his wand pointed at him, his eyes dangerous.

"You're not the only one who knows silent spells, Potter," Malfoy shouted, his voice, which was normally very calm, was completely out of tune now. "You're not allowed to touch me, Potter. It's your own fault. I'll leave you here. I hope you freeze to death," the blonde said. He looked very bewildered, and then ran off.

Harry was ready to murder the blonde. He was paralyzed and nobody knew he was here. Oh, lucky for him he had told Hermione he would be at the Quidditch pitch. Maybe she would presume something had happened. If she did, he would have a lot of explaining to do.

Why had he done it anyway? Now he knew Malfoy was a Death Eater. What had he expected? Had he hoped he would be wrong about the Slytherin? The Mark was ugly and stood out next to the porcelain skin. Witnessing was really shocking. His mind was forced to accept that the slender, pale boy had joined Voldemort's side, and thereby fighting against him.

Still, he was trapped here. His numb limbs had been awoken by the adrenalin rushing through his veins. Unfortunately for Harry, the adrenalin had disappeared as soon as he was hit by the spell. His body was frostbitten, and desperation took over his mind. Brilliant.

* * *

Draco was shocked. He couldn't believe Potter had witnessed his mark just then. He just couldn't get the fact that the Boy Who Lived now knew who he really was. What would happen to him? Would Potter go to Dumbledore? Draco's vision blurred when he thought about the consequences. He knew he should have gone to the castle when he saw the Seeker arrive. Then none of this would have happened.

However, it had been tempting to watch the small dot fly with an enormeous speed from one end of the Quidditch pitch to the other. Draco had always wanted to fly the way Potter did. Another thing to be envyous about. He had always wanted to compeat, but knew he wasn't as good as him.

The only thing he could figure out in this very moment, was going up to the Room of Requirement. Not to repair the Vanishing Cabinet, but to grab that letter. This was his only chance at explaining himself.

Draco pulled out the letter Potter had written on Monday.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_I just had a word with Malfoy, that's all. Too bad a teacher heard it. I'll be stuck with him for a couple of weeks more. Fortunately, Dumbledore has been generous with his punishment. I won't worry about it, however, it's still five days 'till Sunday._

_I'd rather hear about you. You told me you wanted to unburden you from certain things. I can promise you they'll be safe with me. I just know I'll be able to help you through them, Silvergreen. _

_I'm the one dying to know you better, and for a reply._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

What was he even thinking? That Potter would believe in his innocence when he wrote it down? What was he even planning on writing? Draco felt the urge to smash something, but took a few calming breaths instead. He then took a quill and started to write on the back of the letter.

_Dear Harry_

_My secrets aren't very pretty. I trust you, and I don't want you to think badly of me._  
_Anyway, it's a very long story, and it all starts with my family. They are very proud, prudish even. In order to make them happy, I have to make sacrifices. _

_I can't exactly tell you what sacrifices, that's very delicate. The truth is that I don't want to make those offers, but I have no choice. I'm worried that I won't be able to succeed and live up to their expectations. _

_That's really all I can tell. I hope you understand. _

_P.S. Don't get into trouble again._

_Yours sincerely_

_Silvergreen_

After placing back the letter, Draco remained where he was. He wasn't able to move. He didn't know what to do next. Nausea washed over him, as anxiety returned. How long would it take until Dumbledore found out? Draco held back his tears. Malfoy's didn't cry.

How had he gotten so deep into this mess?

**To be continued.**

**Please Review! Really, if you don't, I'll stop continuing. Period. **


	9. Chapter 9: Crying

**Hiii! Thank you EVERYONE for the reviews! They really made my day and it would be so awesome to get even MORE this time. This is the next part, it gets much worse, but I promise things will get fluffy soon enough. Hang in there!**

**Enjoy…**

Chapter 9

Crying

Harry was sitting in front of the Gryffindor fireplace, warming up his frozen limbs. Hermione was making him some camomile tea. Lucky for Harry, his smart friend had sensed something was wrong. Otherwise he could have been out there for longer than an hour.

Harry was proud he had found out about Malfoy's mark. Hermione disagreed, of course.

"I can't believe you violated him again," Hermione complained, handing over the damping cup, her lips forming a thin line. She resembled McGonnagal an awful lot.

"Thanks," Harry whispered, accepting the cup with shaking hands. "I didn't violate him, Hermione. I just took a look at the Mark, that's all." Harry took a small sip and felt how the hot drink made its way to his stomach. The hot trail it left behind made Harry sigh in relief.

"Are you satisfied now?" Hermione bit, looking at Harry severely. Harry had expected a little more compassion, he had been the one lying in the cold for more than an hour. Instead, Hermione thought he was the culprit.

"Yes, actually. I told you he was a Death Eater. I just knew it." The vision of the dark ink imprinted on that white skin kept repeating in his head.

"And what are you going to do now that you know?" Hermione asked, grumpily. This attitude didn't suit her at all. It made Harry even more agitated.

"I don't know. I'll just, … I'll keep a closer eye on him. I'll make sure he's unable to put Voldemort's plans to action." Harry nodded approvingly to his own conclusion.

"I don't think you should meddle in this, Harry. Maybe Voldemort is using him to get to you. He trapped you into entering the Ministry last year too, didn't he?" Hermione suddenly looked worried, forgetting all about her angriness for her friend.

"No, that's impossible. I don' t care about Malfoy," Harry replied resolutely, not even blinking.

"Would you let him die?" She observed her friend closely, warning him not give the wrong answer. Harry surpressed the urge to roll his eyes long-windedly.

"No, of course not. But if he chooses to be a Death Eater, it's his own fault when it turns out badly," he said straightforwardly, shrugging as he did so.

"Was that tattooed on his arm as well?" Hermione asked straight-forwardly.

"What?" Harry asked dumbly.

"That he voluntarily joined the dark side," Hermione groused. That wasn't like her at all.

"No it wasn't. Merlin, 'Mione why are you so touchy about this? It's like you actually _care _about him. Maybe I have to go tell Dumbledore. He'll know what to do about it."

"Don't you think he already knows?" Hermione answered wisely.

"What?!" Harry exclaimed perplexed. " Why would he let him start his sixth year at Hogwarts? He's a threat." Harry's eyes were as big as saucers.

"He's just a boy, Harry. And Dumbledore knows that. Sometimes things just need to happen, whether they're wrong or right. You can't control everything."

"This is Malfoy we're talking about, Hermione."

"I know. Just drink your tea. How's Silvergreen, by the way?" Harry's stomach turned at the mention of the name. He hadn't thought about it since he had witnessed the Mark, and that had been a good thing.

"Not good. She hasn't replied since Monday," Harry bellyached.

"You're still convinced it's a girl, aren't you?" Hermione kept provoking him, like she actually wanted him to lose his temper. Harry swallowed back his angriness and smiled instead, a heartening thought crossing his mind.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Maybe she has responded by now," Harry beamed happily. He got up and waved his goodbye at Hermione, before leaving the room hurriedly.

* * *

When Harry arrived in the Room of Requirement, he made his way up to the aisle where the oak desk was placed. He turned around the corner, but froze in his tracks. There was a boy seated on a pile of boxes, right next to the desk. The boy was crying.

Harry could tell by the platina mop of hair that it was Malfoy. Still, he couldn't move. He was petrified in shock. Malfoy _crying_? His eyes were red, and became puffy because he was wiping his tears away every few seconds. The stripes the tears had left on his cheeks were like cracks in a porcelain sculpture.

Harry felt how his eyes filled with tears as well, and he quickly hid behind a large Vanishing Cabinet. It reminded him of his second year, where he had hidden inside one. Now he knew it wasn't that safe to crawl into a Vanishing Cabinet. You could end up in its twin brother. Harry tried to erase the crying Malfoy from his mind, but it was impossible. His muffled sobs in the distance confused him. That wasn't a sound Harry would expect to hear from him.

Maybe Hermione had been right. Maybe his father had obliged him to take the Mark. Harry forced that thought out of his mind. He shouldn't let his guard down just because the grey-eyed boy was crying his heart out. It could be for various reasons.

After a while, Harry heard the teen leave. He left his dark corner and walked up to the navy blue box. Could it be _his _fault that Malfoy was crying? The thought crept in his head like a cold stone falling into his stomach. Guilt made his way through his veins like poison. It couldn't be his fault.

He shook his head, trying to shake the thought of once again, and opened the letter. There was a reply. This seemed to take priority and Harry read it with renewed eagerness.

_Dear Harry_

_My secrets aren't very pretty. I trust you, and I don't want you to think badly of me._  
_Anyway, it's a very long story, and it all starts with my family. They are very proud, prudish even. In order to make them happy, I have to make sacrifices. _

_I can't exactly tell you what sacrifices, that's very delicate. The truth is that I don't want to make those offers, but I have no choice. I'm worried that I won't be able to succeed and live up to their expectations. _

_That's really all I can tell. I hope you understand. _

_P.S. Don't get into trouble again._

_Yours sincerely_

_Silvergreen_

Harry's smile faded, as his happiness made room for compassion. He hadn't thought her family would force her to do things she didn't want to. Harry knew exactly how it felt to be despised by your own family. The Dursleys had never tried to be friendly. But at least they weren't his true family.

Harry had always had the soothing thought of his good parents. Two heroes of the Wizard world. That had kept him going. He had wanted to make _them _proud, not the Dursleys.

Before Harry knew he was doing so, he had already grabbed a new piece of parchment and a quill.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_I understand how you feel. I was raised by a family who didn't love me either. It must be very hard for you, but keep in mind that you have friends here at Hogwarts. They will support you, no matter what._

_I'm always relying on my friends. Without them, I wouldn't be the man I am now. I feel very sorry for you, you know. I want to make it better, but I don't know how._

_What sacrifices are we talking about exactly? Please do tell me. I can handle it._

_PS. I'll try to be a good boy._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

Harry put the letter under the box and turned around. His eye fell on the box where Malfoy had been sitting a few moments ago. What had he been doing in the Room of Requirement? It had been the second time he had seen him here. What did he expect to find here? And why had he been sitting so close to that box? Would he know? Would he have read his letter?

The handwriting was still the same, so it was impossible that Malfoy had answered this time. Besides, he couldn't be crying because of the letter. It didn't have anything bad written in it, did it? Harry shook his head. He needed to stop asking himself all these questions. He exited the Room and made his way back to the Fat Lady, still pondering about the blonde.

Hermione was still in the same spot, in her chair next to the fireplace. Harry took his seat, and it caught his eye that Ron's chair was empty. He was probably with Lavander. Again.

"Hi Hermione. You never guess who was at the Room of Requirement," Harry reported while sinking into the cozy crimson chair. He had been obvious to her rolling eyes.

"Silvergreen?" Hermione tried, without the enthusiasm Harry was expecting.

"No, sadly enough not. Malfoy," Harry answered, his excitement never faltering.

"Malfoy? Are you going to tell me a Malfoy story _again_?" Hermione questioned tiredly. She put her book down and looked at Harry with worried brown eyes. "All you do lately is talk about Malfoy."

"It's the second time he's there. I've seen him last week too. It's not a coincidence, Hermione. I think he's looking for something in the Room."

"Your letter, maybe?" Hermione attempted.

"My _letter?" _Harry brought out, shocked. "No! Not my letter. That's impossible."

"Where did you see him exactly? _In _the Room or _near _the Room?" Hermione inquired. She observed Harry attentively, until it made him feel uncomfortable.

"In the room," Harry replied sheepishly.

"So why would it be impossible? You haven't asked Silvergreen whether he or she is a boy or a girl, have you?" Hermione replied with self satisfaction.

"No I haven't," Harry sighed. "Do you never get tired of that he or she-ing?"

"No. Do you ever get tired of that Malfoying?" Hermione shot back.

"Okay, you've got a point. But I just wanted to tell that Malfoy must've gotten a task, right? So what if this task included something with the Room of Requirement? If we find it out before he can put it to action, it'll save us a lot of trouble, won't it?"

"If you prevent Malfoy from completing his task, You Know Who will kill him," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Harry sighed again. Why was Hermione always right?

"Whatever. He's not Silvergreen, and that's a fact."

"You haven't proven it yet. Until then, Silvergreen can be anyone, Harry."

"I'll prove it, you'll see," Harry defended himself. He pointed his chin in the air, to empower his words.

"You could always use your map to see who disappears," Hermione proposed. Harry's smile brightened.

"That's brilliant, Hermione! I'll do it!" he radiated, jumping up from his chair in enthusiasm.

"Okay. Now, I'll be off to bed. Tomorrow's the last day of the week, and I don't want to be tired all day." She saluted him and marched up the stairs, her brown curls bouncing behind her. Harry sighed. It was half past ten. He could go to bed already, but he wouldn't be able to sleep. Besides, Ron would wake him up again when he arrived. He sat back down again, and continued following his stream of thoughts.

He had hoped Hermione would have backed him up this time in his thoughts about Malfoy, but she had found new arguments again. Why was she defending Malfoy? What did she care if Harry wanted to figure out his plans? Harry continued brooding until suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulders.

"Oi, mate. Why aren't you in your bed? The room's deserted, man," Ron said. He had a wide grin on his face – Harry rolled his eyes at that – and Harry looked at the clock. It was half past twelve. He'd been caught in his thoughts for two hours. Harry suddenly felt very tired and got up.

"I was just waiting for you, Ron," he replied. At this, Ron's smile widened.

"I knew that, Harry. What were you up to this evening? Have you gotten an owl from your secret girlfriend already?"

"She's not my girlfriend, Ron. And as a matter of fact, I have." Harry couldn't surpress a grin, happy with how Ron handled the conversation. He and Hermione were wildly different.

"Wicked! I thought she'd stopped writing?"

"No, no. It probably just took a while to decide what she would write. I asked her a difficult question." Harry's smile was glued on his face, his forgetting all abou this tiredness.

"Like what?" Ron asked, curiousness written all over his face.

"I won't tell you! I promised not to," Harry replied, feeling offended. An old lady in a portrait opened her eyes lazily. "Be quiet, will you," she scolded. Ron just smiled at the grey-haired senior and waved his hand.

"Piss off, you old fool," Ron replied. "That's not fair," he then said to Harry.

"I saw Malfoy in the Room," Harry said, in a low whispering tone this time. He didn't want to wake another grumpy portrait.

"You saw him _again?" _Ron said. First, Harry though he was going to get another talking to, but Ron continued: "Seeing him there twice must mean he's up to something."

"Yeah. I know. Hermione said he could be the one writing me the letters. I told her that's impossible," Harry said, disappointedly.

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "She's gone mental," he breathed. Harry nodded in approval. "I know why she's constantly nagging you about that 'Silvergeen could be a boy' thing, Harry. It would be silly for her to be the only one left without a boyfriend, wouldn't it? I have Lavender, you would have Silvergreen, and she would be left behind." Harry looked at the ginger-haired boy.

"That's a rude thing to say, Ron," Harry replied. Nevertheless, he had a point. That could very well be the reason why she insisted on checking Silvergreen's identity. "Anyway, I'll check on the Maurauders' map. It'll show me the dot of who disappears."

"That's brilliant, Harry," Ron replied, smacking his friend on the back. Harry caughed and laughed at the same time, a very uncomforable thing to do.

"Hermione's idea. You'll have to be quiet now, the others are already asleep," Harry said, upon entering their circle-shaped Dormitory.

"That really is a great idea, Harry. Hermione's brilliant. Goodnight, mate."

"Goodnight, Ron."

**To be continued…**

**Please Review!**


	10. Chapter 10: Forbidden Forest

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I just love to read what you all thought about it, so keep reviewing! This is the next part. I think you're going to like where it's heading ^_^ **

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 10  
Forbidden Forest

The next morning, Harry had put the map in his robes, ready to watch it all day. He made his way to the Great Hall alone. Ron was still in bed, since class didn't start until ten o'clock, and Hermione, being the morning person she was, was presumably already having breakfast.

His prediction proved to be true when he saw his brown-haired friend sitting at their usual spot. He plopped down on the bench in front of her and got out the map right away. He had already made the map visible in the Common Room. He didn't want to draw any attention by talking to an old scrap of parchment.

"Hi, 'Mione," Harry greeted. Hermione nodded in reply, closely watching what he was doing.

"What are you up to?" she asked.

"You told me to look on the map, didn't you?" Harry answered, unable to hide his wide grin. Hermione was so great. Although she could be really annoying sometimes, she always came up with the best ideas.

"Malfoy's sitting right there, Harry," Hermione pointed.

"I'm not looking for Malfoy, am I?" Harry replied using the same childish tone as she had just done.

"Stop being so short-sighted. I'm very sure that Malfoy's the one writing you those letters," Hermione said. "Where's Ronald?" she then questioned.

"He's still in bed. We stayed up late last night." Harry didn't want to bring Lavender up again. Although she could camouflage her feelings very well, Harry knew it pained her to talk about it.

"Yeah, _we _as in Ron and Lavender. I'm not stupid, Harry. Don't treat me like a simpleton."

"Aren't you sullen today," Harry huffed. "What makes you believe Malfoy's the one?" Harry asked, getting back to the subject again.

"He's the only one you've seen near the Room. Plus, I've seen his handwriting." This tiny little fact made Harry's mind turn. Hermione _could_ be right.

For all Harry knew she actually _was _right. Malfoy was the only soul he had seen around the Room of Requirement. He had even seen him _right next _to their spot. Malfoy was a Slytherin, and he did have a prudish family. Suddenly truth struck Harry like lightning. The sacrifices Silvergreen had been talking about were the Mark.

Hermione saw how Harry's color drained out his face.

"You've finally figured it out?" she said, pulling an eyebrow as she did so. "It took you long enough. Don't say I didn't tell you, I did. I even warned you not to write to someone you didn't know."

"What am I supposed to do now?" Harry breathed miserably.

"I don't know, Harry. Stop writing, I suppose," Hermione replied vaguely. Harry knew he couldn't stop writing. He had been looking forward to that for the past week.

_I trust you._

It couldn't be Malfoy. He didn't trust him. They detested each other. It couldn't be him, since Harry had told who he was, and it wouldn't be like Malfoy to reply to a letter coming from him, would it? But he had been crying, the last time he saw him. Presumably crying over something Harry had written.

_I don't want you to think badly of me. _

Harry shoved his plate away and laid his head on the table. What mess had he gotten himself in? There was only one way to be sure it was Malfoy, and he had it right next to him. The Marauders Map.

"I need to know for sure, Mione. Then we'll see." Hermione just shook her head. "It's him, Harry. I found a handwriting spell in the Library the day before yesterday. I asked Neville to grab your letter and to lend it to me. That's how I found out. The spell doesn't lie."

Harry looked at her confused, shock appearing on his face. "I don't know what to be more angry about, the fact that the person I wrote to was Malfoy or the fact that you stole my _personal _letters," Harry grumbled, trying to keep his voice down so that the others couldn't hear him. He grabbed the map and stormed out of the Great Hall in a tangle of robes.

* * *

Draco had risen early this morning to go see if Potter would have replied the day before. He was eating his breakfast as fast as he could without looking like the Weasel and then left for the Room. When he got to the seventh floor, he saw a door shrink with high speed. He quickly jumped forward and managed to get inside just before the door disappeared.

He was in the usual room. Potter would be here. Why had he come in? Why hadn't he waited until-

"Malfoy." Draco froze in his tracks. He should have known this was a set up. Potter wanted to pay him back what he had done to him on the Quidditch pitch.

"Potter. We meet again," Draco said coldly. It was the first thing that had come to his mind. Before him, the emerald eyed Hero barricaded the way to the velvet box. The angriness radiated off his body, and Draco felt rather intimidated by the sixteen-year-old.

"I know what you're doing here. You're Silvergreen, aren't you?" Potter growled. Draco's face went pale. No. Potter couldn't know. He just couldn't! He had only found out about his mark yesterday!

"And what about it?" Draco replied, trying not to show his fear.

"How dare you write to me?!" Potter shrieked, completely losing his control. "You're a fucking Death Eater! For all I know you could be telling all this to Voldemort! Is that why you wrote?" Draco felt his heart sink in his chest. Why was he even surprised?

"No. I didn't write to hand you to the Dark Lord. He would probably prefer to write to you in person."

"And why's that?"

"No reason. I just found your letter and thought I'd reply to it. That's all. Nothing more." For one of the few times in his life, Draco was being honest to Potter. But of course, the idiot did not believe him.

"You think I will believe that? I'm not that thick, Malfoy. I know there's a reason behind all this, and I'm gonna find out what it is!" With those words, Potter trodded out of the Room, leaving a baffled Draco behind.

The blonde walked up to the oak desk and took the letter that was lying underneath it. That was probably the last one Potter had written. Their small conversations had come to an end. Suddenly, a sad wave washed over Draco and he could feel his eyes sting with tears. He fought them back, trying not to let Potter get to him and read the letter.

_Dear Silvergreen_

_I understand how you feel. I was raised by a family who didn't love me either. It must be very hard for you, but keep in mind that you have friends here at Hogwarts. They will support you, no matter what._

_I'm always relying on my friends. Without them, I wouldn't be the man I am now. I feel very sorry for you, you know. I want to make it better, but I don't know how._

_What sacrifices are we talking about exactly? Please do tell me. I can handle it._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

Draco sighed upon reading Potter's answer. It seemed he couldn't handle his stories. Or he couldn't handle the person they were coming from. Either way, Draco had lost. Pansy would support him, that was for sure, but right now, Draco felt down. He didn't know whether to write a reply or not.

But in the end, what did he have to lose?

_Dear Harry_

_I told you that you wouldn't appreciate who I am. I wish it had been kept a secret for a little longer. Don't ask me why, Potter. I haven't got a clue either. Sometimes I just hope you could be friends with me._

_You can't, obviously. And there's no reason to write anymore. Why am I writing then? Maybe to say goodbye. I really liked our way of communicating, even though you're convinced it has something to do with the Dark Lord. It's alright. Never mind._

_Goodbye then._

_Your sincerely_

_Draco_

Draco placed the letter under the navy blue box and turned around. He would have preferred never returning, but he had no choice, since he still had to fix the Vanishing cabinet. Draco closed his eyes for a brief moment, shutting out the messy room and trying to get his mind in order again. It was useless. Potter was like a Gemino Curse to his thoughts, every time he came along, they seemed to multiply.

* * *

The next morning, Harry had gotten up early to go play Quidditch. There were few student out of bed, since it was a Saturday and most students planned to have a good lie-in. Harry made his way to the Hogwart's grounds alone, carrying his Firebolt along the way. It was a cloudy October morning, the sun nowhere to be seen.

As Harry walked his way to the Quidditch pitch, he saw someone else outside. It was peculiar, Harry thought while watching the figure. The person made his way to the Forbidden forest. All of a sudden, Harry could see a shade of gold and realization struck. It was Malfoy!

He mounted his broom and took off, cold air caressing his hair gently. He remained out of the Slytherin's view, and managed to follow him a couple of feet. However, the trees were standing so close to each other that Harry had to continue on foot, dragging along his heavy Firebolt. Nevertheless, he was able to follow the blonde. He didn't seem in a hurry.

That wasn't so surprising, it still was early and nobody was awake. Harry wondered what the boy came looking for in the forest. He didn't like it here, everything was so sinister, and the smallest sound could be heard from miles away. Harry presumed he was meeting his father, or another Death Eater to tell the Dark Lord his plan had failed. He probably had to befriend Harry in some way, and then deliver Harry to his master.

Fortunately for Harry, Hermione had known Malfoy had been behind this all along. The latter kept walking further and further into the dark forest. Harry was so occupied with following the boy, he hadn't seen the large root blocking his way. He fell straight forward, his nose buried in the moist ground.

Obviously, Malfoy had heard and turned around hastily. "Who's there?" he asked, anxiety sounding through his cold voice.

"It's only me," Harry growled, dusting off his robes as he got up. "Who did you think it would be? Your master?" he shot. Malfoy's grey eyes seemed to darken when he heard Harry's voice and he rolled his eyes illustratively.

"I should've seen that one coming. Why are you following me around? Are you a stalker, Potter?" Malfoy replied coolly, even though his body language told Harry something extremely different.

"I wouldn't be shadowing you if you wouldn't do anything suspicious. What were you planning on doing? Meeting Voldemort?" Harry guessed. He knew he sounded mental, going on about Voldemort and such, but it was stronger than his will.

"I'm not meeting _anyone. _I actually came here to be alone."

"You're always alone," Harry retorted, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm _not _always alone, Potter. And to explain myself a little further, I wanted to be outdoors, where no one could see me."

"Why is the seeing part so important? Planning on doing something that mustn't be seen?" Harry inquired, watching the Slytherin's every move.

"Stop trying to snatch me on something, Potter. It's tiring."

"Why did you write to me?" Harry continued, not even listening to what the blonde had to say.

"I wrote you a reply. Go read it. Leave me alone."

"I'll read it later," Harry said. Upon hearing that Malfoy had left him a reply, a soothing feeling had come over him. Harry didn't know why the response was so important to him, but he banned it from his mind. Right now, he needed to focus on the Death Eater in front of him. "Why did you say you don't want me to think badly of you?"

"What is this? A questionnaire?" Malfoy sneered, his lip curling up, revealing a white row of teeth.

"Yes," Harry said tonelessly.

"I wrote that down because I meant it," Malfoy replied. The words didn't sound like they just came out of Malfoy's mouth. Harry took his time to let them sink in and then looked at the sixteen-year-old.

"Is that some sort of trick? Did Voldemort ask you to trick me into being friends with you."

"Yeah sure, Potter! Now get the hell out of here!" Malfoy bellowed, turning around to continue his way into the Forbidden Forest. Harry ran after him as quickly as he could, carrying along his Firebolt, but unfortunately fell over again as his foot got stuck in a root again.

"Aah," Harry brought out, as he tried to pull out his foot, but failed to do so. A wave of pain cut through his ankle as he moved it. "Merlin, I'm stuck." At this Malfoy turned around and looked at him, pulling a blonde eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. Go on, go wherever you were heading. I'll catch up later, don't worry," Harry growled sarcastically. Malfoy took a step forward, but Harry continued. "Don't you dare coming any closer to me!" Harry was unable to reach his wand, and continued to pull his ankle, regardless of the pain that came with it. The only result he got was getting more entangled. He turned and twisted his ankle until he couldn't bear the hot stings of pain anymore and leaned back.

Malfoy was still standing put. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?" Harry scolded, shooting him the most dangerous glance he had.

"You seem to be the one doing the enjoying part. I'm just watching. The Boy Who Lived Got Stuck In The Forbidden Forest," Malfoy mocked.

"You forget: Trying To Unmask A Young Death Eater. That gives it some suspense," Harry bit. Malfoy just kept looking at him from a distance, while Harry remained where he was, in his uncomfortable position.

"Why don't you use your wand, Potter. Are you a Wizard?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. And I'm a better one than you are, Malfoy. I just can't reach it."

"I could reach it for you, if you'd let me," Malfoy suggested. This only set Harry's teeth on edge.

"And disarm me straight away? You wish," Harry barked, offering the Slytherin another Death Glare.

"You're already disarmed, you fool. You can't reach it, remember? It's fine for me, you know. I'll just leave you here."

"Don't act like you care. You left me at the Quidditch pitch too, petrified, _remember_," Harry bawled. His temper rose each time the blonde spoke. The fact that he was stuck here made his blood boil. If only he had just gone to the Quidditch pitch, without paying attention to the bloody Death Eater, it would've been a nice morning.

Right now, he was stuck with Malfoy and a sprained ankle. Brilliant.

"Touchy subject, Potter? You shouldn't touch me unwantedly, that's what you had to pay for doing it anyway."

"Wow, now I'm really broke, Malfoy. How tough of you," Harry grumbled.

"Stop whining already. Let's make a deal. If I help you out, you'll help me out on something too," Malfoy proposed.

"And what would that be? Letting you blindfold me so you can sacrifice me to your master?"

"You're not in the right position to argue, Potter. Take it or leave it." The pain in Harry's ankle increased as the root kept pushing on it. His leg was getting numb and his back started to cramp.

"Whatever," Harry agreed, sighing as he gave in.

"Good boy," Malfoy smiled upright. _Smiled. _Harry hadn't seen Malfoy smile much. It only happened occasionally, and most of the time, Harry didn't even pay attention to it. But right now, he had. His stomach squirmed, and Harry ascribed it to the fact that his foot was nearly broken. A voice in the back of his mind told him the smile had something to do with it but he ignored it.

Malfoy came closer and squatted next to him. "Reducto," he said, pointing his wand at the root. It pulverized and Harry was free, in only a few seconds. The pain decreased, but the thumbing feeling kept haunting his swollen ankle.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, ashamed from making such a big deal of it. After all, they were just two students who were sorted into different Houses. _If _you neglected the fact that Malfoy was his arch enemy and a Death Eater of course.

"Come on. I'll help you to Madame Pomfrey," Malfoy said, offering him a hand to pull him up, his voice soft. Harry frowned, the friendly way of speaking sounded extra-terrestrial to him.

"No, it's fine. I can walk by myself, thank you."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. She can fix it in a minute, if you make it worse, it'll take longer. You don't want to waste your Saturday on that, now do you?" Malfoy spoke, reminding him of Hermione. It was peculiar how Malfoy reminded him of Hermione at times. It wasn't the first time he had said something that would by a typical thing for his smart friend.

"You're probably right," Harry sighed, giving in and grabbed Malfoy's hand firmly. The latter pulled him up with an unexpected strength and wrapped an arm around the Gryffindor's shoulder. Harry didn't feel at ease, standing so close to the person he hated the most. Anyway, he didn't nag.

"Wait, I dropped my broom over there. I was actually planning on flying some laps," Harry said, reaching for the Firebolt and then leaning into the taller body again. Harry hadn't expected his slim figure to be able to support his weight, but Malfoy didn't complain.

Harry started hobbling out of the Forbidden Forest and looked at the blonde. His face was only inches from his. His stomach squirmed in a pleasant way. Harry tried to ignore it, but as he observed the small birthmark next to the boy's ear, it only increased. It became impossible for Harry to think, the scent of Malfoy's cologne prickling his nose gently.

Then, out of the blue, Harry looked into grey eyes and whispered "I'm sorry for being so rude. I'm not like that all the time, you know."

"Yeah. It's fine," Malfoy replied, averting his gaze.

"I mean it Malfoy. I'm not going to say it twice, but these are sincere apologies. I've been an asshole to you, all this time. I'm not taking anything back, nor will I stop to stalk you, but I'll apologize for giving you a hard time just now."

"Are you sure you're feeling OK? Because I don't recognize you anymore, Potter."

"Don't push your luck, Ferretboy," Harry bit teasingly.

"It already feels like I am," Malfoy replied. At this, Harry looked up again, meeting silver orbs. He saw something in those eyes he couldn't quite place. Harry frowned. He was the first one to avert his eyes this time. They both remained silent while making their way back to the castle. The clouds seemed to have faded, and the sun shone, giving the meadow-land a summery feel.

**To be continued…**

**Please review! (it really doesn't take that much of your time does it?) ;)**


	11. Chapter 11: Stalking

**Hi guys! Thank you all for the lovely reviews. A special thanks to all the guest taking their time to review. I can't thank you in person because I can't send you a personal message, so this is the occasion where I thank you all. Keep reviewing and giving me feedback, because the story's really unfolding now.**

**Enjoy the next part ^_^**

Chapter 11

Stalking

As Draco had dropped Potter off, and was returning to the Slytherin common room, he couldn't believe what had just happened. Potter had let him carry him to the Hospital Wing like they had been friends since first year. Draco knew he shouldn't be all too thrilled about it, it was obviously a sole event. However, Draco could still feel the heat radiating of the Golden Boy's body and Potter's smell lingered on his clothes. It was hard not to like that.

He walked into the Common room and saw that Pansy was waiting for him.

"Where have you been?" she questioned, frowning. She observed him expectantly and then her frown took place for a knowing smile. "You've gone to see him, haven't you?" she asked.

"No. I went for a walk and he came stalking me again," Draco confessed, waving away her jolliness. "It's nothing."

"Oh, yeah it is! I can tell you're lying, Draco Lucius Malfoy!" she squealed.

"He fell over a root in the Forbidden Forest and I helped him," Draco told his curious friend casually.

"You WHAT?" she exclaimed, her eyebrows nearly reaching her hairline. She immediately sprang up and dragged him to one of the leather sofas.

"I helped him. You know, he couldn't get out and I removed the root for him, that's all." Pansy her eyes only got wider and she tapped the leather couch, mentioning him to sit down. Draco took a seat next to her, trying to hide his excitement.

"I want to know _everything," _she breathed.

"It's nothing. I freed him from the root and then I supported him to get to the Hospital Wing, that's all," Draco explained, trying to make it sound as boring as he could. Pansy could feel the hormones flying about and her smile widened even more.

"He let you help him to get to the Hospital Wing? Draco, that's amazing. He's definitely getting into you."

"He isn't. Yesterday, he found out that I was the one writing him. He was furious, to say the least," Draco said, suddenly feeling down again. The fact that he would not be able to write to the raven-haired teen was rather depressing. Pansy's enthusiasm – and his own – felt misplaced at the moment.

"Yesterday?!" Pansy exclaimed. " He still let you carry him all the way to the Hospital Wing? That sounds like 'I'm not angry anymore' to me," she teased. Draco just rolled his eyes, not affected by her contagious optimism.

"He still is. Don't get my hopes up, Pans. He was just kind to get me to help him, that's all it really is. Believe me."

"Stop acting so depressed, Draco love. It's not worth it. Be happy he actually said yes. The Potter I know would rather die in a dark, forbidden forest than to be helped by you. With his Death Eaterfobia and such. You're lucky," Pansy said. Draco smiled in reply, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, his own enthusiasm had completely died out. He had indeed been lucky. That little fact proved it was really just a once in a lifetime moment.

* * *

Harry had to stay in the Hospital Wing for an hour, because Madame Pomfrey insisted on checking his foot every ten minutes. She had politely cursed a few times while healing him, complaining about dangerous sports that should be banned from a school.

Harry had told her he had fallen off his broom. He didn't want to get into trouble from going into the Forbidden Forest. Nor did he want Malfoy to be in trouble for it. Harry replayed the thought in his mind, and concluded frustratedly that he really didn't want Malfoy to be punished for that.

Well, the teen had offered a helping hand and brought him all the way up, so that was probably the reason. Some other feeling nibbled in the back of his stomach, but he ignored it.

After exiting the Hospital Wing, Harry made his way straight up to the seventh floor. He had been determined to see what the blonde had written since he had told him he left a reply. What would he have written? Hurtful words? Would he have called him names? Harry was prepared for the worst.

_Dear Harry_

_I told you that you wouldn't appreciate who I am. I wish it had been kept a secret for a little longer. Don't ask me why, Potter. I haven't got a clue either. Sometimes I just hope you could be friends with me._

_You can't, obviously. And there's no reason to write anymore. Why am I writing then? Maybe to say goodbye. I really liked our way of communicating, even though you're convinced it has something to do with the Dark Lord. It's alright. Never mind._

_Goodbye then._

_Your sincerely_

_Draco_

Harry stared at the content of the letter, his body frozen in utter astonishment. Malfoy wanted to be friends with him? Was that yet _another _list to get him to Voldemort? Harry pushed that thought away. If he continued like this, he would see ghosts of the Dark wizard everywhere.

Harry reread the letter, trying to think of something to reply.

_Dear Draco_

_I am convinced you're tricking me into seeing the Dark Lord. I'm not stupid, you've never wanted to be friends, not in all these years. It's obvious you're not being honest right now. _

_I won't ask why you wrote to me, I know the reason already. It's very disappointing having to experience in person that you're really up to no good. _

_Anyways, thanks for helping me out in the Forbidden forest. I owe you that one._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

* * *

Draco knew Potter had told him he would check out his letter as soon as he got back. The words had been burned on his mind, and he couldn't forget about it all day. However, he managed to wait until four in the afternoon to go up to the seventh floor.

What if Potter was still in the Hospital Wing? Should he go check there before he entered? It had only been a sprained ankle, so he would be back already, Draco concluded. He entered the Room of Requirement, thanking the place for the umpteenth time because it had given him an opportunity to talk to Potter and then walked up to the blue velvet box.

He unfolded the letter that was placed underneath it, seeing the scrawls that his bespectacled pen-friend had made. He suppressed a smile and started reading. The watery smile that had made it to his face was erased when he finished reading 'Yours sincerely'.

What did he have to do to get through that thick skull of his? Why couldn't he get the fact that Draco really had feelings himself? Why did he have to be so stupid? Draco considered not replying, but the temptation was too big. The need to get Potter to understand what it was to be him overtook him, grabbing ink and parchment in a hurry.

_Dear Harry_

_Well, it's disappointing for me to read that you still don't believe me, after putting ink to parchment to get it through your skull. It's a known fact that Gryffindors are stubborn. Believe what you want._

_You're very welcome though, it was a pleasure to get you out of trouble for once. You don't have to be the Hero every single time, don't you? _

_I don't get why you keep up the 'being angry' part. You're the one who's attacked me several times and almost outed me as a Death Eater to an entire classroom. I'm still angry about that, but I don't nag about it like you do._

_Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow._

_Yours sincerely _

_Draco_

After putting the letter back, Draco made his way down to the dungeons again. He needed to tell Pansy that Potter was still answering his letters and he rushed down the stairs. He wasn't even looking where he was going until he bumped into a hard wall. Draco bounced back and fell on his bottom. He looked up sheepishly, meeting a pair of emerald eyes observing him worriedly.

"Malfoy. Watch where you're going." Potter's voice was deep and manly.

"I'm in a hurry. You should've gone out of my way, then I wouldn't have bumped into you."

"Whatever. It's your problem. Why the rush? Are you late for a gathering with your Death Eater buddies?" Potter mocked, offering him a hand to get up. Draco ignored the muscular hand and got to his feet by himself, meeting Potter's eyes in reply. The comment announced that things were definitely _not _getting better between them.

"It's none of your business where I'm heading, Potter. Where were you heading? Why aren't you with your _buddies?" _Draco sneered back. He held on to the banister of the stairs, and towered over the raven-haired boy.

"I'm going to the Room, to check if you've had the nerve to answer my letter," Potter said, not intimidated by Draco's disparaging behavior.

"As a matter of fact I have," Draco snarled. He experienced a lot of trouble hiding his excitement about Potter replying. Change of plans, he wasn't going to Pansy. He was returning to the Room, pronto.

"Well then, I'm going to read what you've written this time. I hope there aren't any lies among them?" With those words Potter left, leaving Draco behind with a furious smirk on his face.

"I'll accompany you, I might as well answer whatever you'll be writing straight away, right?" Draco called after him, going up the stairs in the footsteps of the Gryffindor.

"What? You're kidding right?" Potter replied, obviously caught off guard. His dark eyebrow rose, forming a tiny furrow in his scar.

"No I'm not. You owe me, remember. I'm still brooding on something to ask back, Potter," Draco replied, a smile lighting up his features as he was winning the conversation.

"You're not getting _anything _back, Malfoy. I haven't forgotten about you leaving me to freeze on the Quidditch pitch. The fact that you helped me paid off _that _debt."

"That's not what you told in your last letter, was it?" Draco teased.

"That's exactly what I told you. But thanks for the reminder, I'll make sure to be very clear next time." Potter continued marching up the stairs, and Draco just followed behind. This seemed to get on the black haired teenager's nerves rather quickly.

"Are you going to stalk me?" Potter growled, turning around on the spot, Draco nearly bumping into him again.

"I'm not stalking you, Potter. _You _were the one stalking me. I'm just waiting to read your reply, so I can answer it for you."

"Just go away, I'm gonna have to bear with you the entire afternoon tomorrow."

"And still, you're the one heading for the seventh floor, to read what' s in my letter, that you just sent to me this morning. You're really eager for company, it seems."

"Why are you acting so strange, Malfoy? Just call me names or anything! Stop acting like a fool."

"I'm not the fool here. You're just too stubborn to admit that you _don't _have _any _proof that I want to hand you to the Dark Lord. If you really must know, I'm not. So stop trying to figure me out, okay?"

"You're just a big fat liar, Malfoy. I can see through your mask, you know."

"Obviously you can't, otherwise you would have seen the opposite, Potter," Draco barked. This seemed to silence the boy. They walked in silence for a while and then Potter turned to him again, his emerald eyes friendly.

Draco didn't know what to think first. All this time he had wanted the man to throw him that look, and right now he was giving it to him, without even knowing it. The only thing missing now was his smile.

"Okay. Let's say I want to be friends with you, where does that leave us? How are we supposed to act?"

"I don't know Potter. I guess we start with not fighting anymore."

"Not fighting? That's impossible. Just seeing your face sets my teeth on edge."

"It didn't just now." At this, Potter remained silent again. "But you're probably right. We aren't supposed to be friends. I'll read that letter later," Draco said, turning around and leaving a confused Potter behind.

* * *

Harry didn't know what to think. Malfoy had just stalked him until they nearly reached the seventh floor and then ran off like a chicken. Harry had been utterly confused when Malfoy started following him. The way he had talked just now was so different than his usual voice. Harry had never thought his voice could be warm and inviting. He had always known them to be as cold as his dull grey eyes.

Harry shook his head at his last thought. Everything he knew wasn't true anymore. Malfoy's eyes weren't just dull grey. This morning, in the early sun his eyes had shined a bright shade of silver. Harry pushed back the thought when he remembered the weird churn he had felt in his stomach. What was happening to him? Was he becoming soft?

Harry tried to focus on the letter and walked in the Room of Requirement. Before entering, he searched the corridor for a white mop of hair, but the Slytherin was nowhere to be seen. He had changed his mind after all.

_Dear Harry_

_Well, it's disappointing for me to read that you still don't believe me, after putting ink to parchment to get it through your skull. It's a known fact that Gryffindors are stubborn. Believe what you want._

_You're very welcome though, it was a pleasure to get you out of trouble for once. You don't have to be the Hero every single time, don't you? _

_I don't get why you keep up the 'being angry' part. You're the one who's attacked me several times and almost outed me as a Death Eater to an entire classroom. I'm still angry about that, but I don't nag about it like you do._

_Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow._

_Yours sincerely _

_Draco_

When Harry read the content of the letter, he felt a mixture of angriness and another feeling, something he couldn't quite place. He had never associated the soothing feeling with Malfoy before, but he recognized it after reading the letter for the second time.

_Warm hearted._

Struggling with his emotions, it took Harry a long time to compose his reply. After structuring his thoughts, he took a quill and some parchment and wrote to his pen friend.

**To be continued.**

**Please review!**


	12. Chapter 12: Busted

**Thank you to all my lovely readers! This story would never have been so much fun to write when you wouldn't be the ones reading it. So here's the next chapter. I know I'm a day early, but tomorrow I'll be so busy that I won't find the time to update. I thought I'd give you the next part now instead of Saturday.**

**Enjoy. And don't forget: REVIEW**

Chapter 12

Busted

When Draco arrived on the sixth Floor, he turned around again. Where was he heading anyway? All he wanted to do was go back to the Room, to see what his secretive Potter had written. Okay, Draco admitted he had reacted a bit too eager, trying to accompany the Gryffindor. He was just desperate to find out whether the Gryffindor would want to reply or not. As for a few moments ago, it seemed the black haired teen was really eager himself.

Draco headed back to the seventh floor, and found a dark corner to hide in. Across from him stood a cage with two little birds in it. Their flapping wings rustled through the air, trying to get as far as possible from each other. Draco had never seen it before. There was a white one, and a dark one. Draco smiled at the scene, musing about how the birds represented his relationship with Potter.

The bespectacled teen exited the Room of Requirement not long after Draco's observation, but the blonde waited at least five full minutes before entering. He didn't want Potter to think he was obsessed.

_Dear Draco_

_Okay, you're right. I would be angry with you too, if the whole school almost found out I was a Death Eater. Although that's not very likely to happen, I would be ashamed I was one. _

_But you aren't, are you? So why the angriness? Are you afraid you'll be banned from this school? Maybe I should just go and tell Dumbledore about it, and see how it turns out. _

_However, I did notice you've been nicer to me lately. I know the Malfoy from last year would've never helped me get rid of that root, back in the Forbidden Forest. Thanks for that. I won't thank you when I'm facing you, but I can at least write it on parchment, right?_

_I'll see you tomorrow._

_PS: if you dare to call me a nagger, I'll hex you._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

Draco had mixed feelings after reading what his pen buddy had jotted down. It was very confusing, since Potter seemed to swap from one extreme to the other. Draco _was_ ashamed he was a Death Eater. Why didn't Potter get that? He seemed to divide everything into black and white. He didn't have a choice to be a Death Eater, it had been his faith. Potter would never accept that, obviously. Draco wasn't on the Light side either, he hovered somewhere in between, just like Pansy.

Draco smiled at the what came next, the _I did notice you've been nicer _part. You harvest what you sow, that's the expression and Draco had never known it to me more true. Potter had changed as well, and it was much to Draco's liking. He was actually looking forward to spending the afternoon with him the next day.

He reached for his quill and wrote a hurried reply on the back side. He then left again, resisting the urge to wait for Potter in case he came back for the answer. He now headed for the Slytherin Common room to go find Pansy. She deserved an explanation, after him being so down. And he needed to announce as well that Potter was still writing.

He didn't find her in the common room, so he headed for the Great Hall. It was a habit to go check there first, since Crabbe and Goyle were practically living there. Lucky for him, Pansy was there too.

"Hi, Pansy. I've been looking for you. What are you doing here?" he asked. Pansy shrugged, then a smile appeared on her face.

"Why is it that you've been looking for me?" she questioned, her face revealing that she almost knew the answer herself.

"Because Potter has answered my last letter. Or better, the letter I had thought to be the last one. I've just replied to Potter's new letter," Draco announced happily. He had wanted to postpone the moment of truth, but he had not been able to.

"Really? That's amazing," Pansy squealed. The few students present in the Great Hall observed the duo with suspicion and Draco glared at his friend. "Shush, there are other people here that don't need to know."

"What did he write?" She asked in a whispering tone, but still rather loud.

"I can't tell you. That's personal. But it's cool that at least he writes, right?" At this, Pansy's smile only became wider.

"Let's go celebrate. I still have some Firewhisky in my trunk," she whispered.

"That's illegal," Draco replied dryly.

"I know. Since when do you care?" Pansy retorted, an adventurous glance enlightening her dark blue eyes. Draco shrugged in reply, following his friend below ground level.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the Library with Hermione, catching up on Episkey, the new subject in Charms. His wise friend had been right, Harry had better paid some attention, since he was seriously falling behind.

It was of course very difficult to concentrate. Harry had brought his Marauder's Map along, to see when Malfoy was going to reply to his letter. Harry wasn't able to locate the dot, carrying the Slytherin's name and assumed he was already in the Room.

He longed to read the blondes reply, and he found himself unable to avert his eyes from the old piece of Parchment. Why was he so captured by the young Death Eater? Harry had been trying to push that thought back, but it kept returning every time. It was a fact that he _liked _writing Malfoy letters. The fact that he turned out to be Silvergreen hadn't changed the fact that he craved to read what came next, each time.

Hermione was doing what she called 'some light reading', because she was ahead for all the subjects. Personally, Harry would give the book she was reading a wide berth, and he tried to focus on Charms again, averting his gaze from Hermione.

"You're not making any progress, are you?" Hermione said in a silent tone, her hazel eyes piercing through Harry's.

"It's hard to focus."

"I won't even guess what you're thinking about. I'm telling you Harry, let it go. It's very bothersome." At that point, Harry saw the dot he was looking for appear on the seventh floor.

"I'm just going for a walk to clear my head. I'll be back," Harry replied, feeling sorry to abandon his friend in the middle of a conversation, and exited the Library with the book in his hands. Madame Pince watched him closely, but it was his own schoolbook, so he was allowed to carry it along wherever he wanted.

He made his way to the room of Requirement in no time, taking several shortcuts to gain some time. He rushed to the velvet box and grabbed the letter lying underneath it.

_Dear Harry_

_Thanks for responding so quickly. I'm going to make you pay tomorrow for what you wrote about Death Eathers, Potter, you do know that, don't you?_

_On the other hand, it's good to read your honest enlightenment. It seems I'm not the only one who's changed. You wouldn't have told me that last year either. _

_Don't think your nice words make up for the bullshit you wrote just before it. The only thing I wanted to hear was a sorry, but it seems Gryffindors have a lot of pride in them too. If you feel like telling the old fool what I've become, go ahead. However, I have this presumption he already knows. That man knows almost everything. _

_If it's so tempting to tell the world, why didn't you already? It's lots of talk but little action to me._

_I'll see you tomorrow, and I'll be the one to hex you for what you wrote._

_Yours sincerely _

_Draco_

The content of Malfoy's letter sent a wave of adrenalin through Harry's body. Firstly, it was peculiar thing that Malfoy followed in a similar vein as Hermione, as regards Dumbledore. She had given him the exact same answer. Secondly, it was actually true that he had been threatening Malfoy all week to tell everyone that he'd seen the Mark, but he hadn't just yet. Why was that? Was there a small part in him that believed what Hermione had said?

"_Was that tattooed on his arm as well? That he voluntarily joined the dark side?"_ What if Malfoy didn't have a choice at all? Just like he hadn't had a choice than to spend his entire youth at the Dursleys? As a matter of fact, Malfoy had told him about it in one of his letters. He had entrusted him that he had to make certain sacrifices.

Maybe becoming a Death Eater was one of them. Harry sighed and tried to stop pondering over the letter. He needed to come up with a reply quickly, in case Malfoy decided to go check if he had replied yet.

_Dear Draco_

_I hope you don't hex me too badly, your master wouldn't be happy with that. However, there's this question that I really want to ask you, if that's okay. Were you forced to take the Mark?_

_Personally, I think you were, because you're too much of a coward in my eyes to join that side. What's more, you're too prudish to let your pure skin be stained by that ugly dark ink, right?_

_Don't hex me all too bad, revenge is sweet after all. And I can assure you it'll be pay-back time._

_Anyways, sleep tight and I'll see you tomorrow._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

Harry got up to leave, but saw a blonde figure down the corridor. Malfoy was standing there, smiling at him as Harry rose. _Smiling. _Harry's stomach writhed and a strange feeling sank to his abdomen.

"How long have you been standing there?" Harry inquired, trying to sound angry, but there was only surprise sounding through in his voice.

"Long enough to see you stick your tongue through your lips while you're writing," Malfoy responded. Harry didn't expect such an honest and non-vexing answer and was baffled for a few seconds. Malfoy's smile widened, revealing his snow-white teeth. They matched his blonde hair perfectly. "You're a fast worker, aren't you? I wrote this letter only a few minutes ago, and yet you're here. Have you been waiting for me to leave?" Malfoy questioned.

"No. I was sick of studying in the Library. I tend to do that a lot lately, since Ron and Lavender are dating."

"So you decided you'd rather spend time with me?" Malfoy teased. Harry felt like the boy before him was an alien. He couldn't recognize anything from the pathetic child he used to be. It was surreal.

"Why are you acting this way, Malfoy? You're not yourself lately."

"Do you think you actually _know _me, Potter?" Malfoy questioned. Harry felt embarrassed by this remark and he had to avert his eyes. "That's what I thought. But since we're here, why do you act this way, Potter? Stalking me, writing to me, it's nothing like _you _to do this either, is it?"

"You don't know me either, Malfoy," Harry responded.

"Then, why don't we start with that right away?" Harry looked up into Malfoy's eyes shocked, and saw silver ones looking back at him amusedly. "What on Earth were you thinking about, Potter?"

"I'm not thinking about anything," Harry lied. The strange feeling from before was making its way through Harry's body. When Malfoy took a step closer, the feeling increased.

"You're not very talkative right now, are you? It's kind of amusing to see you here. To see you write those letters. Sometimes I just – you know – think it's somebody else writing to me, just to make a fool out of me."

"I can't imagine who would want to do that," Harry added sarcastically.

"Oh, you're back again," Malfoy joked. They were only a meter apart now, which was very close for both boys, when they weren't fighting.

"Why is it that all of the sudden you have your heart on your tongue, Malfoy?" Harry fired back, not wanting to give the blonde the satisfaction of leading this conversation. "And why don't you read my letter straight away? You're here now anyway."

"No. I want to save it for later."

"Should I leave you alone then?" Malfoy shook his head. They both fell silent, standing before each other, just watching. Millions of thoughts were rushing through Harry's head, but none of them was worth it to break the comfortable silence. A playful tension was hanging around them, making it unable for Harry to move, uncertain of what would happen when he did.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. He stepped around the taller teen, his should brushing Malfoy's upper arm very lightly. Still, he felt the touch burning through his skin, as he made his way outside the room of requirement.

**To be continued…  
Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13: Sticking Spell

**SOOOO! Here's what you've all been waiting for! Finally some action. Don't get your hopes up too much, I'm still taking it slow, but this chapter has a little more fluff. I'm writing chapter 18 right now, so there's a lot more to come.**

**Enjoy! **

**Don't forget to review!**

Chapter 13  
Sticking Spell

Draco remained immobile until Potter had left the Room. He could still feel the touch of his shoulder against his arm, almost leaving a permanent mark. There had been something in Potter's emerald eyes, something he had never seen before. Something indefinably beautiful. It had been addicting to watch, and right now, Draco just wanted to see it again. To see _him _again.

For a brief moment, Pansy's voice sounded through his head: _'I'm not in love with that selfish little prick. - Whatever you say, love.' _ Draco shook his head and banned the thought, trying to focus on Potter's letter.

He bent over to the box and took Potter's letter out. For the first time since he started writing to the boy, he had proof it was _really _The Boy Who Lived who had written it. He had seen him hold the quill between his strong fingers, forming his disfigured letters.

_Dear Draco_

_I hope you don't hex me too badly, your master wouldn't be happy with that. However, there's this question that I really want to ask you, if that's okay. Were you forced to take the Mark?_

_Personally, I think you were, because you're too much of a coward in my eyes to join that side. What's more, you're too prudish to let your pure skin be stained by that ugly dark ink, right?_

_Don't hex me all too bad, revenge is sweet after all. And I can assure you it'll be pay-back time._

_Anyways, sleep tight and I'll see you tomorrow._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

The bubble Draco had been floating in until now burst. The truth cut him like a knife. Potter's words hurt more than they would have done last year, when they were just enemies. But now, they hit him in the depths of Draco's heart. Potter just thought he was a prudish coward. So why had he looked at him that way? Draco was momentarily paralyzed, struggling with his conflicting feelings, but then took out his quill to write a reply. He needed to get out of here as soon as possible. He couldn't bear to stand here any longer and quickly wrote:

_Dear Harry_

_You're such an unpredictable, rude bastard. How dare you to call me a prudish coward? You have no idea how hard it is to live up to my father's expectations. I had thought you of all people would know what it's like, since everyone expects you to defeat the Dark Lord. _

_But I was wrong. To answer your question: I didn't take the mark voluntarily. What may come to a surprise for you is that I resisted the Mark at first. They tortured me until I could no longer protest. I haven't told anyone just yet, so please burn this letter after you read it._

_I'll hex you even more. Don't forget about _my _vengeance, Potter._

_Yours sincerely_

_Draco_

Draco left the room, caught up in his thoughts. The anger blazing through his vains was consuming him entirely. He had let his guard down and Potter was already taking advantage of it. If Draco had known the Chosen One had just written such a letter, he wouldn't have been so nice to him.

He couldn't find Pansy in the Common Room, and decided to just go to the Dormitory's already. It was only a little past eight, on a Saturday night, but he was fed up and tired.

When he had changed his robes for his green pajamas, he pulled back his covers and lied down on the cold mattress. He sank into his pillow, closing his eyes. "_Sleep tight." _A male voice in his head whispered. Draco could almost feel the hot breath on his cheek, and fell into a deep sleep, dreaming about black hair and green eyes.

* * *

It was almost three o'clock, and Harry was making his way to professor McGonnagal's office. Harry wondered if she would deliver them to Filch again, and hoped silently that he would have to write lines. For a brief moment, he was reminded of the line 'I must not lie," which was forever visible on his left hand.

All of a sudden, cleaning suits of armor was very appealing, and he quickly entered the classroom, seeing Malfoy was already there.

"Take a seat, Potter," McGonnagal said, mentioning to one of the two comfortable chairs placed at the opposite side of her desk. Harry nodded and sat down. He didn't meet Malfoy's eyes. Their moment at the Room of Requirement had haunted his mind all night, trying to figure out what it meant exactly.

"Filch still needs your help. He asked me to make you two help him out again. He'll meet you in his office," McGonnagal explained. Harry's face fell. He looked sideward to Malfoy, but couldn't see whether he liked his task or not. He had his put his mask on again.

"I hope the hard physical work makes you two realize that assaulting one another is off limits." McGonnagal's severe voice warned them again. Harry didn't meet her eyes either, feeling embarrassed by his deeds. McGonnagal was like a mother to him, and he didn't like to let her, nor his fellow Gryffindors down.

Both boys nodded, got up and left for Filches office.

"I wonder why we have to meet him in his office this time. He probably got a wizard joke or something and can't get rid of it. Stupid squib," Harry cursed. Malfoy looked up at him a white eyebrow disappearing in his hairline.

"You know Filch is a Squib? I had no idea you knew that even existed, since you were raised by your stupid Muggles." Typical, Malfoy was trying to mock him yet again.

"I found out a little while ago. Are be back to the insulting mode?" Harry shot back, feeling offended that this was the first thing Malfoy said.

"Yes, as a matter of fact we are. Your letter made me realize you're never going to change. You're just full of shit like everyone else," the blonde sneered, curling up his lip as he did.

"Full of shit? Careful Malfoy, one day your face in going to be frozen in that grin, and you'll never be able to wipe it off again. Besides, it was only a letter, right." Harry didn't know whether to feel sorry about the things he wrote, but being polite to Malfoy made him feel awkward.

"A rude one, for that matter. I don't like to be called a prudish coward, Potter. As you'll read in the reply, I will make you pay during our afternoon detention."

"Give it your best shot, Malfoy. I was just asking a normal question. What do you want me to say? That you proudly refused the Mark and stood up to Voldemort? You just don't have it in you."

"That's quite clear right now Potter. Thanks for pointing it out so nicely," Mafloy snarled, a red tint coloring his cheeks.

"Did I hit a nerve?"

"No you've hit several nerves, idiot."

Harry smiled, but couldn't continue the fight as they reached Filches office. Okay, he understood why Malfoy was all grumpy, but still Harry felt kind of disappointed. He had hoped yesterday would have meant _something_. But what exactly? Harry had no clue and dropped the subject, banning it from his head.

"You two, get inside. Don't make yourselves comfortable, kids. You're going to help me," Filch hissed, ragged clothes covering his emaciated aging body. "You're going to clean out that closet. You'll have to destroy the Jokes using magic." Then, Filch got behind his desk, still observing the pair suspiciously, as in daring them to retort. Harry wasn't that stupid. He didn't fancy another couple of weeks of detention with the Squib, so he turned to the closet and opened it.

Most of the jokes were easy to destroy by using Reducto, Incendio or Finite Incantatem. For a Squib, that was an impossible task. A pinch of sympathy for the old man shot through Harry's body and he quickly got rid of the weird feeling. It was as if his body was overflowed by strange emotions lately.

Just like yesterday, when the fire was blazing through his body, every time he thought about the slender arm touching it lightly, his shoulder was on fire again.

"Are you going to remain silent all da?," Harry asked, after a while of unbroken silence.

"Yes I am. I don't have anything to say to you," Malfoy retorted, venom dripping from his voice.

"I thought you were going to get revenge. Or are you a little scared with the Squib around?" Harry whispered, just soft enough so Filch wouldn't hear it.

"I really had no clue you knew what he was," Malfoy said, still a slight hint of surprise in his voice. "Your Muggles didn't teach you about that, did they? I bet the Weasel learned you all about it."

"Actually, I found out all by myself," Harry replied proudly, breathing out indignantly.

"Less talking, more working, kids. You're here to be punished," Filch fumed despicably. Both sixth years fell silent again. They continued destroying the tricks.

Then, all of a sudden there was a large thumb beneath Filches office, somewhere on the lower floor. "PEEVES!" Filch screached, running out of the room as fast as his crippled legs could carry him.

"Glad we got rid of that," Harry smiled, reached for cautiously for another Magical Joke. Every now and then, there was a prank that was set off by touching it. Harry's legs suddenly started dancing when he had grabbed the silver ring with an indented diamond. Malfoy watched him amusedly and clapped.

"Do something about it, Malfoy. Don't just stand there!" Harry grumbled, as he tried to keep up to his fast moving feet. Why did Filch have to run off just now?

"It's just a Talantalegra Spell, Potter. Don't worry. It'll wear off." The last remainders of sympathy for the boy disappeared as snow before the sun, as his feet paced up their speed.

"Just. End. It. Right. Now!" Harry wheezed, trying to send Malfoy his most dangerous look, but failing disastrously, as his hips moved on to what looked like a salsa song.

"Finite Incantatem," Malfoy said, his smile still plastered on his face. Harry's body stopped dancing, and Harry straightened his clothes again.

"I'll get you back for this. Wait until you get one with a nasty spell on it." Harry tried to catch his breath, while destroying the ring that had caused all of this.

"I told you I would take my revenge. But beware, Potter. This is only the beginning." Harry just shrugged, rolling his eyes at the grey-eyed boy and continued emptying the closet. An old horn started making a deafening sound when Malfoy picked it up. Unfortunately for Harry it hurt both of their ears, so they quickly destroyed the object.

As the clock made its way to five o'clock, they were still busy cleaning it up. Filch hadn't returned just yet, Peeves had probably made a mess so big, that it took him this long. Harry reached for another trick, not even looking what he was reaching for. They had been on it for more than an hour and a half now, and it had become a habit. Malfoy had just finished up his own, reaching for another as well. Harry grabbed an orange cylinder shaped box. As his fingers touched the soft paper coating, he saw Malfoy's slender fingers reach for that one as well. He looked at Malfoy, tightening his grip on the object, ready to tell him that it was his.

Malfoy did just the same, and when both their hands were on the Magic Joke, the trap was set off. Both boys were pulled forward, smashing into each other with a surprising force. Harry rolled his eyes. He was glad the trap wasn't anything else. For all he knew they could have been both dancing here, until Filch arrived. But being a Squib, he wouldn't be able to make them stop. He would probably have to go get someone else to set them free. Harry smiled at his disturbing thought and tried to push Malfoy back, unsuccessfully.

"Let go of me, Malfoy," Harry snapped, pushing harder against the taller boy's shoulders.

"I'm not holding you. It's the Magic Joke, Potter. There's probably a Sticking Spell on it," as Malfoy spoke, his hot breath fell in Harry's face. An unknown stir upset his stomach, while irritation raced through his body as the situation hit him. Harry averted his eyes, trying to control his conflicting emotions.

"Can you reach your wand?" Harry then asked, looking up into Malfoy's grey eyes again. He knew he shouldn't have done that. Upon seeing the molten silver, the stirring feeling returned instantly.

" I can't. Can you?" Malfoy asked. There wasn't any mockery in his voice this time. This only made Harry's stomach more upset by the unknown feeling, and Harry tried to reach for his own wand desperately. They were standing too close to be comfortable.

"Stop pulling at me, are you trying to rip me apart?" Malfoy was hovering over Harry as the black haired teen tried reaching his back pocket.

"Sorry! I'm just trying to get us out of here," Harry retorted, standing straight again. He sighed distraughtly. Malfoy's scent penetrated his nose, sending shills down his spine. His eyes widened, hoping Malfoy hadn't felt his toes curling up as the pleasant feeling spread over his body. The taller boy watched him closely, the intense gaze increasing the heavy feeling in his stomach.

Just as Harry thought things couldn't get more uncomfortable, the feeling sank from his stomach to his abdomen. A crimson tint crept onto his cheeks and Harry didn't dare to look up or move an inch.

"Maybe it wears off all by itself," Malfoy suggested, looking around for ideas. Harry tried to ignore the feeling in his trousers and nodded approvingly.

"I hope so. We still need to get our work done," Harry replied. As he spoke, he looked up again, meeting Malfoy's gaze. His cheeks were a dark shade of pink, an unusual sight for Harry. Malfoy felt uncomfortable too. Harry moved again, feeling a something nudging his belly softly. Realization struck like lightning, only increasing the snug feeling in his abdomen.

Why was this happening to him? "Let's not think about the stupid detention now, Potter," Malfoy complained. The hot breath on his cheek made Harry's mouth go watery. An alarmed feeling warned him that it was actually _Malfoy _glued against him. He could feel every single muscle tense as Malfoy moved as uncomfortably as he felt. Malfoy's fruity smell, intense gaze and muscular body made Harry's mind go blank and his senses flinched.

The only thing he was aware off was the soft pink lips moving closer to his. Harry lifted his head a little, observing how those lips came closer tiding over the small distance between their faces. Malfoys pointy nose touched his cheek just before their lips met.

A hot wave washed over Harry, feeling the gentle pressure on his lips. He leaned into it, curious for more. The kiss evolved slowly, Harry's mind growing hazier, fireworks filling his stomach. When cold air touched his lips, Harry slowly opened his eyes, meeting grey ones.

A smile formed on the Gryffindors lips, leaning into the blonde again.

**To be continued…**

**Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14: Confusion

**I want to thank all my loyal readers for reviewing, adding my story to their favourites and for just supporting me. :'D **

**This is the next part. I hope you enjoy the next part. I'm still busy rewriting all the upcoming chapters, so the following update will be next Friday once again! Don't forget to keep me updated on what you think.**

Chapter 14  
Confusion

Draco didn't know what had happened. One minute, an uncomfortable Potter was insulting him, the other minute he was caressing Draco's lips. The kiss was unexpected. It was pleasant, but daring, just like a Gryffindor had to kiss.

Just like _Potter_ hadto kiss.

Draco had never experienced anything like it before. It was beyond everything he had expected, to say the least. His mind went fuzzy thinking about it. Potter's kiss wasn't even present in his wildest dreams, just because it was so surreal. However, the raven haired teen had pressed his hot red lips onto Draco's until they were swollen.

Potter's taste had mingled with his own, stimulating his senses and making Draco's blood pressure mount. His heart sped up, embracing the boy next to him as much as he could, since they were still stuck. Draco could feel eagerness in Potter's touch, and craved for more every time they came up for air.

Being glued together, Draco sensed how the bespectacled boy tensed, but not with uncomfortableness or angriness this time. It was lust. Desire built up in both their eyes, just until they heard a door creak somewhere at the end of the world.

And then Draco's feet touched the cold Hogwarts' ground again, hauled back into reality by none other than Filch.

"Why aren't you working?" Filch grumbled, upon looking at the boys. Potter's head turned as red as a tomato, his mouth opening and closing several times without making any noise, imitating a fish. Draco pushed back the urge to smile and tried to look at Filch from their rather uncomfortable position.

"We're glued together by this trap. Could you reach for my wand please?" Draco said courteously, not wanting to offend the Squib.

"Oh," was all that Filch brought out, and the old man limbed to the closet, reaching Draco the wand. He could feel the uneasiness radiating of the senior's body as he stepped back again.

"Finite Incantatem," Draco spoke, ending the spell between them. Potter stepped away, turning around at once, facing the closet. He grabbed a Magical Joke and didn't speak. The red tint on his cheeks was still visible.

"Should I cast a Finite Incantatem over that too?" Draco teased, pointing to Potter's robes subtly. A deep beastly sound escaped Potter's throat, warning Draco not to go any further. The sound didn't have the wanted effect, it only turned Draco on more than he was already. If he had his way, he would ravish the Gryffindor, dishevelling his messy hair – more than it already was - until it screamed 'I just had sex', truthfully this time. Draco experienced difficulty pushing that though out of his head. Instead, he turned back to Potter, who was still blushing.

"Okay, I'll leave it up to you then," he smiled. Much to his surprise, Potter replied his smile with a wide grin. A grin he had only offered to his friends so far. It made Draco's heart flutter with joy. They continued their tasks in silence, while Draco's heart was screaming with bliss.

* * *

At eight o'clock, Harry made his way out of Filches stuffed muggy room and headed for the Gryffindor Common Room. He had had the rest of the afternoon to think about what had happened during Filches absence. Mafloy hadn't talked much, or rather, Harry hadn't answered to anything the blonde was saying, whereupon the Slytherin had stopped talking as well.

The scene kept repeating in his head like a Muggle video. Except, there wasn't an 'off' button for this video. Occasionally, there were other moments included, like the one they were touching shoulders, or the one Malfoy had carried him all the way up to the Hospital Wing. There were even small flashes of a crying Malfoy amongst them.

Harry didn't know what to do. He couldn't talk about this to anyone. Not to Ron, the ginger Gryffindor would kill both Malfoy and Harry. He couldn't tell Hermione either, Harry didn't even want to _think_ what she would have to say about that. Finally, he couldn't share his feeling with Silvergreen, since Silvergreen was actually the one he had kissed with.

"Hi Hermione, Ron," Harry said, an unwanted smile splitting his face in two. He had planned to keep the joyful feeling locked inside his heart, but the smile gave him away instantly.

"You seem happy. What happened?" Hermione asked, quirking a curious eyebrow. Ron looked up from his parchment, filled with what seemed to be Transfiguration. Harry's stomach shrunk as he thought about his own assignment. He hadn't even started it.

"Nothing. Are you doing homework?" The reply was forced out of his throat, sounding very unnatural.

"Something definitely happened. Even _I _can tell," Ron said, sharing a knowing glance with Hermione. The glance didn't augur well for Harry.

"Don't you have to see Lavender?" Harry shot back. This didn't seem to satisfy neither of his friends. They kept looking at him expectantly, until he sighed with frustration. "I'm sorry. I, … eh met Silvergreen," Harry lied, trying to set their minds on something else.

"Is she hot?" Ron asked. It was very straight forward, hitting Harry right in the face.

"Er, I guess," Harry stammered, not quite sure what to reply to that. He had never thought about Malfoy as being 'hot'. However, the Slytherin wasn't unpretty at all. His tall figure, pointy features. His soft lips, slender fingers. His mind became all clouded when the soft colors of the Slytherin baked on his retinas. Harry tried to stop his mind from going there. He hadn't even figured out what it meant to him, let alone fantasy about more.

"Ronald. You shouldn't ask that. Who is _she?" _Hermione corrected her red haired friend. The intonation on the personal pronoun spelled little good. Harry had better gone to the Room of Requirement, because right now, there was no way he was getting out of here without spilling every detail.

"I can't tell. She asked me not to tell anyone. You know, rumours," Harry lied smoothly, while ignoring Hermione's knowing look.

"What happened. Did you kiss her?" Ron asked boorishly, putting down his quill and abandoning his homework. Harry presumed it wouldn't get finished today. His head turned crimson, his ability to speak disappeared.

"I, er…" At this, Hermione's eyes got wide and she sprang up. "Ronald, don't you get off on Lavender enough? Don't bother Harry with your vulgar words!" She snapped, gripping Harry by his shoulder and towing him along the way to the Portrait hall, leaving behind a wide-eyed Ron before the fireplace. Harry was as astounded as Ron by Hermione's choice of words, observing his female friend bewildered and with adoration at the same time.

Harry tried to erase the fogginess from his mind as Hermione dragged him to a place where they couldn't be heard and prepared for the worst. How could he have been so stupid? Now he would have to spill everything!

"What happened exactly?" Hermione asked, pushing Harry down on an old cauldron with several leakages in it. "I know who Silvergreen is, Harry. Did you kiss him?" she asked. Harry averted his eyes, observing his feet as desperation took place for the upbeat feeling from before.

"I kissed Malfoy," Harry confessed, not meeting his friend's eyes. He didn't know why he had spilled it already. He didn't know how to feel about it either. At first, he felt good, then confused and right now he felt guilty.

"Were you planning on telling Ron like that? He might have hexed you, Harry." Hermione looked angry and worried at the same time. She didn't even bother to sit down herself. The confused feeling returned upon Hermione's reaction. Hadn't she been the one telling him to trust Malfoy? Why was she so defensive about it now?

"Ron doesn't know who Silvergreen is. He doesn't have a clue." Harry hoped with every fibre in his being that his assumptions were truthful.

"You're right about that. Why did you kiss him?" Hermione questioned. There was no trail of mockery, angriness or reproach in her voice this time. But still, it didn't feel like she was firing him up to do it again.

"We got stuck together by a Sticking Spell. All of a sudden I felt weird. I've never felt that way before and Malfoy was, …" Harry trailed off, the brand-new feeling haunting his mind made it difficult to focus on the words he wanted to say earlier.

"Go on,"Hermione encouraged. She ascribed it to shyness, which wasn't the case right now. Admittedly, Harry was indeed very bashful to explain his experiences to his friend, but it would have been easier if his body didn't go crazy everytime Harry tried to say the Slytherin's name.

"Different. I don't know. I just know that he kissed me and I kissed him back. Then Filch barged in and the moment was over."

"Filch saw you two?" Hermione shrieked, covering her mouth with her hand. The sight of Filch walking in on two teenagers, his eyes nearly popping out of his head was absurd and Harry chuckled briefly before replying.

"No, he had no clue. He just reached Malfoy's wand so he could break the spell, that's all."

"And what happened next?" Hermione enquired. Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione just kept asking questions, she didn't even say what she thought about it. Was she okay with it? Had he done something weird? She always had an opinion at the ready, but right now it felt like if he was consulting a doctor, asking for his symptoms and writing them down with a simple nod.

"Nothing. We just finished our detention. Why are you so curious about this?" Harry actually wanted to use another word to describe her interest, but he didn't want to be offending.

"No reason. It's just, oh Harry! I told you Malfoy had changed, didn't I?" She had a glimpse of a smile on her face, all the while looking worriedly again. This set of a firework in Harry's body, finally getting some affirmation.

"He hasn't," Harry replied dryly, hiding his the scene presently occurring in Harry's mind.

"Why did you kiss him then?" Hermione asked slyly clever.

"I don't know. I just told you I didn't know. That's all I've got. I don't know why I did what I did. I'm lost," Harry admitted, looking up into Hermione's brown eyes. She looked at him like she already knew what he didn't know and irritation soon started to boil in his throat.

"Just drop it. I don't want to talk about it. Tell Ron I told you I fancy Silvergreen," Harry said, rising from the cauldron and heading for the door. He didn't know why he was so huffy all of a sudden, but Hermione's behaviour confused him even more than Malfoy's kiss. Why couldn't she just support him like a proper friend instead of trying to make him realise it himself?

"Do you fancy Malfoy then?" Hermione asked, her eyes filled with faked innocence. Harry wanted to turn around and shoot her a dangerous glare, but he just left, the question hanging in the air unanswered.

* * *

Arriving in the Library, Draco stopped in his tracks when he saw his best friend. He hadn't expected Pansy to be here. Admitted, they both still had a lot of homework to do, but normally Pansy made it in the Slytherin Common room.

Draco was just about to leave again, when Pansy noticed him.

"Hey Draco! Where do you think you're going? I'm right over here," Pansy waved, motioning for him to take a seat next to him. Madame Pince cleared her throat loudly, to shut Pansy's mouth and Draco hurriedly made his way to the small mahogany desk. He didn't need the hollow-eyed lady to send them both away.

"Hi. I was just wandering around," Draco said. Damn. Now there would definitely be no work done. Just as Draco had presumed, she immediately saw something big had happened. She wouldn't have been his best friend if she hadn't. Even though it flattered Draco that she could read him like a book, right now it was rather annoying.

"Come on, Draco. What happened? I can tell from your face something eventful happened," Pansy squealed, trying hard to keep her voice down. Enthusiasm radiated off her

"I, er... I kissed _him," _Draco said, putting the stress on his last syllable. Pansy's eyes widened, her smile growing wider and wider. She didn't need the stress on the last syllable to know who Draco was talking about, though.

"You kissed _him?" _she questioned back, stressing the personal pronoun even more. She looked like she was about to scream and dance any minute now, and Draco suppressed the urge to do the same thing. He had a hard time hiding his happiness.

"I did." Draco tried to keep his face emotionless, but he could feel the heat creeping to his cheeks, a soft pink blush appearing on his face. Pansy was unstoppable, Draco's dull answers weren't very effective, they only fuelled her burning fire of delight.

"What happened?! Tell me all the details instantly!" she ordered, looking around her quickly before straightening her back. Draco sighed and cast a silencing charm over both of them. He didn't need a bored students to eavesdrop on them.

"I had detention with Potter again today," Draco started, but Pansy nodded fiercely.

"I know that. Go on, get to the point straight away."

"Do you want to know what happened or not?" Draco growled, frustration audible in his voice. Why was she so annoying? Okay, he was overwhelmed by what had happened, but he had rather kept his special moment to himself for a little while longer.

"Yes. Yes, continue _please,"_ Pansy breathed, gesturing to her mouth as if she zipped it up.

"We had to destroy Magical Jokes, probably from Zonko's. One of them had a Sticking Charm on it. When Potter grabbed it – he obviously had no idea there was a sticking spell on it, while I had recognized the box all along – we got stuck together. Chest to chest." Draco's eyes went dreamy as he remembered the moment. Potter's eyes had been wide with shock when he had crashed into the Slytherin.

Pansy's mouth fell open as Draco continued. "Then Potter became all flustered and he was just irresistible. Then I kissed him. I had expected him to push me away, but instead he kissed me back." Draco tried to be as boring as he could to pester Pansy, and it seemed to work. Pansy's ecstasy drained out.

"And then?"

"That's it. Filch barged in and Potter refused to talk about it." That was the part Draco was coping with right now. Was the boy sorry for what he had done? Did he want to take his kisses back?

"So now what? Just go kiss him again, Draco. He wouldn't have kissed you back if he didn't want to, would he?" Pansy was a rude as always, speaking her mind freely .

"I don't know. I tried to tease him about it, but he wouldn't hear it. He just remained silent." Draco's eyebrow knotted into a frown, thinking about Potter's flushed face and mumbled reactions.

"Typically Gryffindors. He's probably angry because you're a Slytherin. He probably suspected you to be a bad kisser or something like that." Pansy waved her hand as she spoke, curling up her nose as she spoke about the Gryffindors. Draco shook his head in disbelief.

"Pansy, come on. Really? Even Potter could have guessed I'm a good kisser."

"Don't boast, Draco. Good grief, you're so gay."

"Stop it already. I kissed The Boy Who Lived. That makes up for all my sins." At that, Pansy laughed out loud. Madame Pince noticed they hadn't been studying and expelled them from the Library. She had noticed they had cast a silencing Spell. Basically that was allowed, but it wasn't allowed to have extensive conversations, so both friends made their way to the Slytherin Common room, still laughing about their silly joke.

* * *

When Harry reached the Room of Requirement, he still hadn't managed to rearrange his mind. It kept repeating in his head that he had kissed a boy. He always came to this room looking for peace. Even though another letter wouldn't make his stream of thoughts stop, he reached for the reply under the navy blue box.

_Dear Harry_

_You're such an unpredictable, rude bastard. How dare you to call me a prudish coward? You have no idea how hard it is to live up to my father's expectations. I had thought you of all people would know what it's like, since everyone expects you to defeat the Dark Lord. _

_But I was wrong. To answer your question: I didn't take the mark voluntarily. What may come to a surprise for you is that I resisted the Mark at first. They tortured me until I could no longer protest. I haven't told anyone just yet, so please burn this letter after you read it._

_I'll hex you even more. Don't forget about _my _vengeance, Potter._

_Yours sincerely_

_Draco_

Harry smiled at Malfoy's angriness. However, his smile soon faded, because the letter reminded him who Malfoy really was. A Death Eater. Suddenly it hit Harry that this could all be a trick. Compassion for the boy made his heart swell, a lump forming in his throat. Why did Malfoy have to be the bad guy? Still, from what Harry read, Malfoy wasn't as bad as he thought he was. But that only made matters worse.

The kiss had been so wonderful, not like anything Harry had ever experienced before. But still, the thought of Voldemort had to ruin one of the most erotic moments in his life. The moment their lips touched, Harry's mind was at easy. All worrisome thoughts dissolved. Malfoy had been everywhere.

He couldn't kiss Malfoy again. Not only because they were sworn enemies, also because there was a world of a distance between their destinies. Harry saw he hadn't brought a quill and cursed. There must be one around here, right? Harry scanned the area with his eyes before an annoying thought crossed his mind. He was a _Wizard. _

"Accio quill!" Harry shouted, pointing at nothing in particular. All of a sudden, a rain of old, deteriorated and dusty quills came Harry's way. He picked out the best one and realised he hadn't any ink so far. That wouldn't be so easy to find, would it? He decided to at least try and soon enough, he was ready to write his reply, once again.

**To be continued...**

**Please review! **


	15. Chapter 15: Inferi

**Well well, we're getting there, guys. I hope you do like where this is heading, and I even came up with some sort of epilogue. Enjoy this next part! **

Chapter 15  
Inferi

After being expelled from the Library, Draco accompanied Pansy to the Slytherin Common Room. On their way there, they passed a shortcut he always took to reach the Room of Requirement more quickly and changed his mind. He didn't feel like being interrogated by his friend once more, and wondered whether Potter would have replied to his letter yet.

"Do you mind if I go check Potter's answer?" Draco asked, stopping in his tracks. Pansy continued walking for a couple of feet and then turned around too, noticing her friend wasn't following her anymore. She quircked an eyebrow at him, before shrugging.

"Sure. Go ahead," she replied a playful grin on her face. Draco rolled his eyes demonstratively before heading the other way. Pansy always teased him about Potter. After his friend was out of sight, Draco started to run. He really needed to see whether Potter had replied his letter. What would it say? Would he talk about their kiss?

Draco entered the room in a hurry, turning around the corner of the right aisle and halted yet again. On their oak desk, Potter was writing a letter, his tongue pushes between his lips as he scribbled his answer onto a fresh piece of Parchment.

Draco's heart fluttered upon witnessing the scene. It was the second time he caught Potter writing a letter, and Draco didn't mind observing the bespectacled teen. When the latter put down his quill, Draco stepped forward.

"Hi. I see you've replied. I just got here," Draco greeted, a small smile lightening up his features. Potter spun around, startled. Just like last time Potter was utterly surprised to see the blonde.

"Well. I'm done. You can go ahead and read it. Just wait until I'm gone," Potter replied, only briefly meeting Draco's eyes. Draco bit his lip, noticing Potter was actually trying to avoid him, presumably because of the kiss. He probably felt bad about it, wishing he hadn't done it.

Draco stepped forward, trying to camouflage his nervousness. Potter came closer as well, ready to leave the Room. They passed by each other, their bodies almost touching. It was as if a magnet pulled Draco closer to the muscular boy, tension building in his stomach. His heart began to race, his breathing became irregular. A fraction of a second later, Potter turned around the corner, ready to leave.

"Wait!" Draco shouted, his heart thumping in his throat.

"What?" Potter questioned, his voice sounded harsh, as if Draco was uninvited. Then, he quirked an eyebrow. Draco figured the content of his last letter hadn't pleased the boy who lived. His question didn't involve the letter though.

"May I kiss you again?" Draco asked, his voice barely audible. Potter's eyes widened in shock. His pupils widened as desire appeared in his emerald eyes and the boy backtracked, the distance between both boys increasing.

"Why are you asking that?" Potter stammered, his voice unnaturally high. He kept walking backwards to the door but his eyes were fixed on Draco's lips. He had his full attention. At that, Draco licked his lips seductively before answering. "Because I want to kiss you." Draco's voice was alluring.

Then out of the blue, Potter came closer again, grabbing Draco's shoulders with his strong hands. Their eyes locked and their lips were reunited. The taste of Potter's mouth knocked Draco of his feet again. Potter's soft lips pushed against his, greedily trying to claim them. Draco swooned in Potter's arms, opening his mouth willingly, while Potter's tongue entered his mouth cautiously. His hot tongue touched Draco's gently setting off a firework in Draco's mind. Draco wrapped his arms around Potter's neck, fumbling with the black hair before burying his fingers into it.

A deep growl escaped Potter's mouth, and the young adult pushed Draco firmly against a large closet, but without hurting him. Potter's mouth was demanding. He deepened the kiss, caressing Draco's silk platina hair. Draco moaned in pleasure, igniting Potter's passion even more. His fingers rubbed Draco's shoulders, climbing all the way up to his cheekbone. Potter's hands were rough from playing Quidditch, but his touch was loving.

Then they broke the kiss, gasping for air. Draco opened his eyes, his lips tingled as he looked up in dark green eyes. Potter's lips were red and swollen, his hair was entangled, more than usual, making him even more handsome than he already was.

The comfortable silence between the boys lasted for a while. Draco just stared into Potter's eyes, trying to figure out what he thought as the Boy Who Lived stared right back at him, a determined look in his eyes. Draco got his breathing under control again, focusing on Potter's chest rising and falling.

"I'll see you around," Potter growled, his voice still deep with desire. His fingers brushed Draco's cheek lightly, before he turned around and headed for the door. Draco was paralysed. His limbs were wobbly, and he leaned against the closet to hold his balance. His legs wouldn't be able to support his weight anytime soon. Draco closed his eyes. Potter's smell lingered on his skin, his taste was still in his mouth.

Draco licked his lips delightfully, letting the heavenly feeling wash over him again and again.

Then, Draco remembered Potter had left him a letter. He walked up to the oak desk, his mind still miles away and grabbed the letter.

_Dear Draco_

_Do I really have to burn it? Like actually light a fire? Because that's such a weird thing to do. Anyway, I'm not writing to talk about setting fire to a letter. I've got more important matters on my mind._

_The fact is, you're a Death Eater. I'm the Chosen One. Plus we're sworn enemies. All those things added up, doesn't make a good match, now does it? I'm just so confused. I'm worried. I'm angry. I'm happy as well._

_I don't know how to express my feelings. I've never had to do that before. I'd rather face Voldemort again than to admit that I kissed you earlier, but where does that leave me?_

_Anyways, I'm beating around the bush. I need to know everything about your Mark. Reply as soon as you read it._

_Yours sincerely_

_Harry_

Draco sighed. Okay, he could have expected Potter would want to know everything before starting a relationship, but Draco had rather kissed the young man again than to tell him all about the ugly Mark on his forearm.

As the kiss replayed in his mind, Draco smiled dreamily at the letter. It would take him ages to reply.

* * *

As Harry exited the Room of Requirement, he leaned against the wall. He had just kissed Malfoy again, and he hadn't mind at all. The way his blonde eyelashes had touched his cheek when he looked down had softened Harry's heart. He had never been kissed like that before.

Well, the only kiss he'd had was one from Cho, and she had been crying all the while. You don't want a girl to cry when you're kissing her, right? You want her to moan for more. Just like Malfoy had done.

Except, he wasn't a _girl. _Harry shook his head. The thought of being gay had never crossed his mind. He had never even thought about falling in love, let alone fall in love with a boy. At that thought, Harry froze. _In love? _Had he just said he had fallen in love?

Harry's thoughts became too confusing, and Harry decided to go out for some flying. If he would stay here any longer, Malfoy would exit the Room, and who knew what would happen then. An enjoyable itch in his stomach made Harry want to dig deeper into that thought, but he just got on his feet and walked away.

He reached the fat lady, still sunken in his thoughts. He waited until the Fat Lady had finished her conversation with an old lady visiting her portrait. Just as he was about to give her the password, the portrait opened, and Hermione came out.

"I was looking for you. I still need to talk to you about Silvergreen." Harry's heart fluttered at the mention of the name. He ignored the feeling, nodding to his friend and following her to wherever she wanted to speak.

"I actually was just about to fly some laps around the Quidditch pitch," he told her on their way to a quiet room.

"You can go later. I can hardly talk to you. You're always visting Malfoy, talking about Malfoy or writing to Malfoy." Harry quirked an eyebrow. When Hermione saw his look, she added: "Don't give me that look. It's true. Maybe you don't notice it, but I did. It's all you ever think about."

"Well, you're the one that wants to talk about him right now, isn't it?" Harry retorted defensively

"Yes, indeed. You left without answering my question, earlier." Hermione observed him attentively, while Harry let out his frustration.

"Really, Hermione? I was just trying to figure that question out myself. That's why I needed to go to the Quidditch pitch, remember? To get all my thoughts back in their rightful position." The confusion was visible in Harry's features.

"There is no rightful position for the things under the subject '_MALFOY' _is there?" she teased. Harry frowned again, not sure how to feel about it. Hermione, trying to make a joke about he and Malfoy kissing. _Kissing_.

Suddenly, Harry's head felt very light. "No. There isn't, Hermione. I just kissed him again. We met in the Room." The confession made Hermione smile.

"Again? How was it?" she asked. Harry's frown deepened. Hermione wasn't the person he was used to talking about love stuff. When something involving kissing and such came up, he generally talked to Ron about it. It was a guy's thing. At this point, Ron was definitely excluded from talking about this sort of love stuff. Harry could only speculate on Ron's reaction: either killing Malfoy, hexing Malfoy, declaring Harry mental and killing Malfoy again.

"Good. I guess."

"You guess? Is that why your head's turning as red as a tomato? You can be honest with me Harry. I don't think it's weird that Malfoy's a boy. There's been a strong connection between you two all these years. I suspected you two to end up either killing each other or loving each other. I'm glad it's the second one." Hermione seemed very sincere when she spoke.

"I didn't tell you I love Malfoy, Hermione. Merlin!" Harry exclaimed, frustrated. The _love-_part seemed too much for Harry's brain. It was as if he had been lying in the sun for too long, all his rational thoughts drained out like moisture.

"Okay. Calm down. You'll sort it out on your own. Just let me guide you the right way. It's good to have a friend to talk about it, right?" she said smilingly. Harry nodded. This was heading the good way.

"I'm sorry. I'm being an ass, aren't I?" Harry was trapped in a vortex of emotions, still unable to think clearly.

"You're not. You're just confused, that's all. And I'm very aware that you haven't finished your Transfiguration's essay due tomorrow," she added loosely. Harry felt like he was stung by a bee.

"I told you, I'm getting my broom. I need a bit of fresh air." He started walking away already, knowing his excuse wouldn't be sufficient for his smart friend.

"Not before you have the essay finished. If you must, you'll fly when it's dark." Her voice sounded like a mixture between McGonnagal's and Mrs. Weasleys voice. He didn't know which one was more frightening.

"But-" Harry protested.

"Harry! The year hasn't started off yet and you're getting behind already. The teachers won't wait for you, you know. You have to keep up, even when your thoughts are clouded with a certain Slytherin."

"Alright, alright. I'll make it. But leave Malfoy out of it," Harry breathed, rolling his eyes as he left their quiet room.

* * *

The next morning, Harry was drinking his pumpkin juice in the Great Hall. He searched the Slytherin table for the blonde and found him in his usual position. Grey met green and Harry had to avert his eyes. The intense gaze didn't make him fly into a rage anymore. His stomach twisted pleasurably and he sipped his juice some more.

He dared to look up to the other table again and looked into silver eyes once more. The teen at the other table winked, and Harry felt a dark shade creep up on his cheeks. What was happening to him? He averted his gaze a second time. Hermione shot him a knowing look and Harry smiled sheepishly.

When Ron joined their table, Harry didn't dare to shoot the blonde another look.

"So, how's the new girlfriend?" He asked, a large smile splitting his face. Harry returned the smile, feeling a bit sorry for lying to his first and best friend. However, there was no way he was telling the Redhead the truth.

"Good, but keep your voice down, otherwise the new will spread like a wildfire," Harry hissed between his teeth. Ron shrugged and mad a jovial gesture as to show he wouldn't betray his friend. Harry felt bad about it, losing all of his appetite at once. What was he getting himself into?

They finished their breakfast and made their way to Transfiguration, their first class on Monday. The first period was really boring. Harry looked forward to seeing Malfoy again, that felt very extra-terrestrial to the Gryffindor. He was dying to read the Death Eater's reply. It was crucial that he knew what he was dealing with.

During the noon break, Harry didn't find any time to go up to the Room, because Hermione had insisted on rereading the Defence Against The Dark Arts essay Harry had written during Transfiguration. When she had caught him making homework during another period, she had thrown him a threatening glance, but she hadn't said anything about it. Afterwards, she had obliged Harry to reread it again, saying he hadn't been able to use his full attention during Transfiguration.

Right now, they were attending the very Defence Against The Dark Arts class, along with the Slytherins. Harry tried to pay attention to what long-haired wizard had to say, but he could hardly focus on the former Potion's-teachers bored and monotonous voice. It was as if the man had gotten speech Therapy from Professor Binns in person.

The fact that Snape had paired Harry up with Malfoy made it all the more difficult. Most of his fellow Gryffindors were convinced that this was due to their everlasting hate for one another, but how could they know about the passionate kiss the boys experienced the day before?

Harry was taking notes on the Inferi, in which a Dark Wizard reanimates a dead body to serve him like a puppet. He was just doodling a zombie-like figure in the margin when he felt something hot on his leg. He looked to the left, but Malfoy was still taking notes. It just struck Harry that the boy indeed had the same handwriting like Silvergreen, another piece of evidence that he had been the one writing him. Harry then focused on the hotness on his robes, looking subtly under the desk. A pale, slender had rested on his upper thigh.

Harry swallowed thickly looking back up and shooting another quick glance at his D.A.D.A partner. The boy was still writing, not paying attention to the shocked reaction of The Boy Who Lived. Harry took a deep breath and faced the greasy-haired teacher again, trying to focus on what the professor was saying about Inferi. However, his mind grew foggier as the hand started moving around. The massaging feeling in his leg spread like fire, igniting a certain centrally located body-part.

At this point, Harry was taking short breaths, trying to calm down his increasing pulse. He threw another glance at the person whose hand was currently positioned a few inches from his burning erection. Malfoy put down his quill and looked right, meeting Harry's dark green, lustful eyes. Malfoy's face was decorated by a wide grin, making Harry even more flustered than he was already.

Malfoy's fingers crept closer, massaging his inner thigh. Harry could feel the heat radiating off his body and his vision blurred. His pulse sped up even more and sent an exciting feeling to his growing erection. Harry couldn't take this any longer.

"Malfoy. What do you think you're doing?" Harry whispered, trying to sound as normal as he could. His voice was raw and filled with ardour. His pupils were wide with lust, meeting Malfoy's silver eyes with faked angriness.

"Stop it, I mean it," He whispered, when all Malfoy did was smile in reply. The blonde licked his pink lips seductively and Harry could feel a moan tingling his throat. He tried his hardest to prevent it from excaping and grumbled instead.

"Mr. Potter. Am I boring you?" Snape drawled all of a sudden. At this, the classroom turned its attention to Harry, and the Chosen One had never been so embarrassed before.

"No, Professor," harry replied, his voice unnaturally high.

"Then what was I talking about, may I ask?" Of course, Snape wouldn't let him go that easily.

"Inferi, professor," Harry replied, observing his zombie figure and rereading the notes he had taken so far.

"Continue," Snape said, an unsympathetic smile on his ashened face. Harry's hate for the big-nosed professor increased, while his throbbing erection made it difficult for him to focus on his notes.

"Inferi are reanimated dead body's brought to life by a Dark Wizard to serve him," Harry replied meeting Snape's dark eyes with a challenging look. Currently, Harry had almost forgotten about the problem in his pants, if it weren't for the hand still resting on his leg. Harry had never been more grateful to wear robes. He usually thought of them as being weird, since he had been raised by Muggles, and only wore them when the corridors in the castle were frozen, but right now, the heavy presence of the dark cloth over his crotch gave him self-confidence.

"How lovely, our Celebrity actually got a question right _without _the help of his bookworm," Snape spat, making the Slytherins laugh. Harry looked to the left again, to see if Malfoy was laughing. The teen was observing Harry, instead of mocking him along with his Housemates. Harry's frown disappeared, and he almost returned the small, innocent smile playing around the blonde's lips.

" Well, why don't you try to leave Mr. Malfoy alone and focus on the subject, will you?" Then Snape focussed on the lecture again, and Malfoy's hand was lifted from Harry's leg. Unfortunately, the burning erection wasn't so keen on leaving.

**To be continued...**

**Please review!**


	16. Chapter 16: Snogging

**Sooo. I've just had the worst day EVER. I memorised the wrong hour for an school appointment and that got me a zero out of twenty! I'm so pissed with myself right now. Anyway, I wanted you guys to at least have a good day and get some lovely review to get my self-esteem back a little.  
I hope you like it!**

Chapter 16  
Snogging

After Defence Against The Dark Arts, Harry headed up to the Room. He avoided Hermione, because his body was still turned on. He was the first to exit the classroom. He disappeared quickly, using several shortcuts and arriving on the seventh floor rapidly.

He entered the Room Where Everything's Hidden and made his way to the blue box on the old oak desk. The familiar routine was something Harry felt comfortable with, smiling on his way there. He wasn't very happy with his pen-friend, because had tried to make a fool out of him in front of all the students, but the thought of his pointy features lightened up Harry's mood. And the direction where his hand had been heading made Harry flustered all over again.

He didn't have a clue as to why the boy had this effect on him. He forbade himself from going there and opened the letter.

_Dear Harry_

_I can't write all of that down, I'm sure you understand that. I want to tell you about it, but I'm not sure what you're up to. Can I trust you?_

_Meet me here tomorrow after school._

_Yours sincerely_

_Draco_

Harry frowned. Tomorrow? Yay, he had to wait another day. As soon as the thought had settled in his mind, another one hit him. Malfoy had written this yesterday, hadn't he? Now all he had to do was wait.

Harry hid in the third aisle, and waited for Malfoy to come. Ten minutes later, Harry heard footsteps. He left his dark hiding spot and looked for the blonde.

Malfoy stood in front of the black Vanishing Cabinet, and observed the old black thing attentively. Wasn't that the one Malfoy was so interested in, back in Borgin and Burkes? Suspicion circled in Harry's brain, watching the boy closely.

"What are you doing?" Harry said, coming up behind the boy. Malfoy turned around, slightly startled. Clearly, he hadn't expected Harry to be here already.

"I'm observing this closet."

"Why?" Harry questioned. Malfoy licked his lips, before grabbing Harry's shoulders and pushing him against the Cabinet.

"It's the perfect spot to pay you back," Malfoy growled, his voice deep, clouded in lust. The taller boy captured Harry's lips. Harry seemed to forget about his whereabouts and lost himself completely in the kiss. The taste of Malfoy's soft hot tongue made his arousal grow and he moaned deeply. All the tension from back in the DADA class returned, causing a fireworks in Harry's body.

"I'm the one that needs to pay _you _back, Malfoy. You were trying to stir me up, back in Snape's classroom. You were trying to make a fool out of me, weren't you?" Malfoy looked up in Harry's eyes, grey melting with green.

"No. I was punishing you because you were so damn sexy, writing down your notes with that little frown of yours."

"That's an excuse. And what are you doing with this Vanishing Cabinet? I know there's another one at Borgin and Burkes, Ferretface," Harry teased, trying to create a distance between them so he could think clearly again.

"I didn't know," Malfoy lied smoothly. "Why do you carry a wand in your pants, Potter?" Malfoy questioned, his silver eyes growing dark with lust.

"I'm not carrying-" Then suddenly it hit Harry what Malfoy was referring to. "Malfoy! Stop it already! Stop lying and stop teasing me!" Harry bellowed, pushing the latter away with an unexpected strength. Malfoy fell over a cardboard box, with his bottom on the ground.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you over, Malfoy," Harry said, helping him up again. The Slytherin didn't look happy at all, but for some reason, he didn't scold him. "I saw you in Knockturn Alley, you see. You were remarkably interested by the Vanishing Cabinet there, weren't you?"

"Were you spying on me Potter?" Malfoy reproached, his silver eyes trying to reveal the sting of pain unsuccessfully. For a moment, Harry feared they were back to square one. Then, he covered it up, saying: "Or were you just checking me out?"

"Malfoy! No, I wasn't in love with you then," Harry replied, matter-of-factly. At that, Malfoy quirked an eyebrow and put on his seductive smile again.

"So, you're confessing that you're in love with me now?" Harry's eyes grew as big as saucers. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't think of anything.

"That's not what I – wanted to talk about right now," Harry replied. He leaned into the Vanishing Cabinet again, looking up into Malfoy's pale face and continued: "I just read your letter and I would love to talk about what you want to tell me. You asked me to meet you here, didn't you?"

"Yes I did," Malfoy replied. "But I still think that you've misplaced your wand, Potter. I don't like you threatening me, pointing your wand at me like that. Are you going to disarm me?" the husky tone in Malfoy's voice made Harry forget about their subject, and he pulled the boy closer, capturing his lips with his own.

"I'm going to show you what it's like to be teased, Malfoy," Harry whispered, a beastly sound forming in the back of his throat. He deepened the kiss, burying his hands in the soft, blonde hair. Malfoy didn't protest, he just let The Boy Who Lived take the lead.

* * *

At 6 p.m. Draco joined Pansy for dinner in the Great Hall. He had spent exactly two hours in the Room of Requirement. It had taken him several minutes to freshen up and get his hair back in model. Pansy could see through his façade, a toothy grin greeting him as he took a seat next to her.

"I haven't seen you around since Defence Against The Dark Arts," she hummed, filling her plate with a lean chicken breast, and some jacked potatoes.

"I've been busy," Draco responded softly, not wanting the other Slytherins to get the clue. He cast a small silencing charm over Pansy and himself before continuing. "I met Potter in the Room."

"Was he the one to keep you busy? What did you do?" she asked, curiousness written all over her face.

"We kissed," Draco breathed, a welcoming feeling entered his body when he thought about it.

"For two hours?" Pansy exclaimed.

"Shh. Don't break the bulb, Pans." Draco said, referring to his Silencing Charm. "Yes, for two hours. We talked and kissed," Draco spilled. Pansy quirked her eyebrow, not seeing the point in a two hour make-out session.

"Well, wasn't he angry about your Death Eater problem anymore? Or did you solve that problem under the desk in Defence Against The Dark Arts?" she smiled.

"Nothing happened in Defence Against The Dark Arts!" Draco exclaimed, almost breaking his the silencing charm himself. "As to your question, no he still wants to know how matters stand. But I asked him to be patient." Draco smiled as he spoke, reminded of Potter's small frown when he had asked him the question.

"Potter, patient? Be careful, Draco. Don't you think he's changed so suddenly? One moment he hates your guts, the other he kisses you for two damn hours," Pansy groused, throwing a quick glance at the Gryffindor table to where the Golden Trio was sitting.

"You're just jealous," Draco replied merrily. He turned his attention to his food, suddenly feeling very hungry. He put some boiled potatoes on his plate and chose the chicken as well. Pansy opened her mouth to retort, but Draco had already put off the silencing charm.

"Bon appétit," Draco said, when Pansy closed her mouth again, observing him dissatisfiedly. Draco glanced across the room as well, seeing Potter sitting with his friends.

He immediately felt the urge to be with him again, and started eating with a bit less enthusiasm than before.

* * *

Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, feeling like he was flying high. Hermione noticed it instantly, but she wisely remained silent.

"Hi guys, were you waiting for me?" Harry smiled, filling his dish with whatever he could reach as his smile grew bigger. Ron observed his friend, a knowing smile appearing on his lips.

"You've been with Silvergreen, haven't you?" Ron asked, whereupon Harry's smile only widened.

"Yes, as a matter-of-fact, I have," Harry replied proudly. The tiny pinch he felt because of lying in front of his best friend was overwhelmed by the euphoria still rushing through his body. A month ago, he would have cursed _anyone _who tried to imply he would once become _friends _with Malfoy, let alone kiss him until his lips were swollen.

Right now, Harry didn't know the difference between what was real and not anymore. All he knew was that he had just experienced the best two hours of his entire life, no doubt about that. His growing feelings towards the blonde were both soothing and worrisome.

What about Malfoy's status? What about the black ink on his left forearm? Harry didn't want to think about that right now. Malfoy had made him forget all about Voldemort for once, even though he usually was reminded of the Dark Wizard every time he saw the Slytherin.

"Is she a good kisser?" Ron asked, his mouth full of French fries. Hermione looked at him with a disgusted look on her face, resembling Aunt Petunia when Ripper, the bull dog was slobbering over her spotless kitchen floor. Harry turned scarlet, nodding in reply. He quickly took a bite from his steak, to avoid the next question coming.

"Have you asked her out yet?" Ron asked. Harry was astonished that the red-haired Gryffindor managed to talk with all that food in his mouth. As to reply, Harry shrugged. Lucky for him, Hermione didn't want Ron to continue pestering him, and she interrupted the Weasley before he could ask another bold question.

"Stop it already, Ronald. It's all new to him, can't you tell? Let him finish dinner first."

"Okay, Hermione. You don't have to be so catty, alright?" Ron managed to put another fork in his already stuffed mouth, and kept chewing, his face grumpy.

* * *

The Room of Requirement became their usual meeting spot. Every day when the classes ended, Harry made his way up, sending both of his friends an apologetic, but bright smile. He was meeting Malfoy just before their fifth session of detention on Sunday. The Quidditch season had already started, and Harry had preferred to fly with Malfoy all afternoon, rather than cleaning whatever needed to be spotless this week.

Last week, McGonnagal had asked them to help decorating the Castle to celebrate Halloween. There hadn't been many professors around though, and Harry had spent an amazing afternoon with Malfoy. He doubted this one would be as fun as last week.

Malfoy entered the Room, looking for the Gryffindor, a smile appearing on his lips as his eye fell on the boy.

"Hi. You're unusually early," Malfoy greeted, walking up Harry. As the Slytherin came closer, Harry's heart started beating faster. He still wasn't used to the feeling. Their lips met, as Harry ravished Malfoy's perfectly styled hair. The blonde didn't seem to mind. Soon, all they were was a muddle of robes and they lost track of time.

Malfoy broke kiss, panting heavily, his eyes dark grey. Harry smiled, liking what he saw and was just about to unbutton Malfoy's blouse when the slender boy shook his head.

"Detention, remember?" Malfoy sneered, clearly not happy either. Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes and straightened his glasses.

"You're hot without those, Potter," Malfoy remarked, taking them off as Harry fixed his robes.

"Stop it, Malfoy. We're probably late," Harry sulked, grabbing his wand to fix Malfoy's clothes as well. He wasn't happy at all with the prospects.

"Says the one who was just about to undress me," Malfoy whispered in Harry's ears. The hot breath tickled his earlobe and Harry moaned in reply. The words only made him feel more flustered than he already was.

"I'll meet you here at six, and put words to action," Harry bit, coming upright before leaving the Room.

* * *

Draco was disastrously late for his session of detention with his lover, but there was only one person to blame. Potter had just attacked him like a wild animal, making him want more, while they didn't have any time. He would make him pay at six o'clock.

"Mr. Malfoy. You're late. As was Mr. Potter here. What's your excuse?"

"I ran to the bathroom on my way here, Professor," Draco replied haughtily, gathering up his inches and taking a seat. He could see that Potter's cheeks were crimson, proof that he had experienced more trouble lying to the perceptive Transfiguration's professor.

"Good. Now that's settled, we can start on your detention." Draco tried not to roll his eyes. How long would they be punished? Besides, it was Potter who had punched him, not the other way around.

"You're going to help clean up the Restricted Section in the Library. It's been a while since someone had cleaned there, and Madame Pince refuses to use magic near those old books. It'll be your task to clean them all."

Both boys nodded, got up and were on their way to the Library. As they went down a narrow staircase, Draco's shoulder slightly nudged Potter's. It was as if someone had lit a firework inside the Slytherin. Their eyes met briefly, an emerald gaze responding to his grey puddles filled with desire. Potter quickly averted his gaze again, but Draco swore if the teen had thrown him that lustful look for one second longer, he would have pushed him against the stony wall and snogged the living hell out of him.

They reached the Library without any incidents. Draco wished he didn't wear such tight pants all the time and tried to pull his blouse a little lower, cursing inside for not wearing a robe.

"Good. You're here," Madame Pince said. Draco pulled a blonde eyebrow upon hearing her voice. All he had ever heard her say was 'Shhh' or 'Quiet', and it was surprising to hear she could actually compose a full sentence. "Follow me," she instructed. Or rather, more than one word in a sentence.

Draco noticed how Potter swiftly avoided their bodies touching and followed the old teacher with horn-rimmed glasses like a scared chicken.

"You can start in the corner here. You'll need to do all the shelves. I suggest one of you takes the upper ten shelves, the other one the lower ten. Good? If you need me, I'll be at my desk." With those words, she was off. When she was out of sight, Draco couldn't restrain himself any longer. He grabbed the raven-haired boy, pushing his back against the shelves and captured his lips before the Chosen One could say anything.

His lips first formed a surprised 'oh' but then they quickly responded to Draco's intense kiss. Draco licked Potter's red soft lips, asking for entrance and reunited their tongues. He had been craving for this for the past half hour. The taste of Potter's mouth made Draco swoon, and soon Potter took over the steering wheel and Draco was the one pushed against the shelves.

He usually preferred leading himself, but with Potter it was different. When the Boy Who Lived kissed him, it was as if he was floating. Potter seemed to be the best at _everything, _except Potions of course.

Draco buried his fingers in the black hair, messing it up even more than it already was. It always looked like the boy had just had sex, and made Draco's mind go wild every time he thought about it. Potter didn't feel like a rooky to him. If he wouldn't have been a hundred percent sure the man hadn't dated anyone before, he would have thought he was experienced at this stuff, but the fact that he wasn't made it all the more interesting for Draco.

Draco touched Potter's face, lowering his hands to his wide shoulders massaging the muscles underneath his thick sweater.

"Malfoy, your fingers are cold," Potter whined, interrupting their kiss. The boy placed kisses in Draco's neck as the latter replied: "You wouldn't mind the cold fingers down there, would you?" Draco's voice was deep and husky and he could feel how a wave of pleasure streamed through the Gryffindor.

"Don't. We're in the library, Malfoy. We need to fulfil our task." Potter said, reluctance sounding through his voice.

"There'll be plenty of time for that. I wouldn't have been able to focus anyway. I'm constantly thinking about your sexy ass." Draco met Potter's eyes, which observed him amusedly.

"I'm not sexy, Malfoy. Stop teasing me," Potter said, going back to placing small pecks on Draco's soft skin. Draco caressed Potters neck, before lowering his hands to his chest.

"I need you to take your sweater off, Potter. Come on, strip," Draco said pulling the cloth as Potter quirked an eyebrow.

"Stop it, I said," Potter whispered, pulling his sweater down again. Draco pulled it up, this time with shirt an all. His tanned belly displayed six strong abs, then transforming into his abdomen, a black trail of hair leading down, making Draco's head go fuzzy.

"Merlin," he breathed, observing the boy, wondering why the Gryffindor hadn't had millions of girls. Draco touched Potter's bellybutton with one finger, drawing small circles around it. Potter moaned, lifting his arms and allowing Draco to pull his clothes off.

"That's better," Draco nodded approvingly. Draco leaned forward to kiss the boy again, but then heard footsteps coming nearer.

"The librarian's coming," Draco said, handing Potter's shirt over and helping him to get it back on. Draco then quickly produced a Tergeo spell over the first shelf of books to make them dust free. The books looked brand new and Potter swiftly imitated the spell, remembering how Hermione had used it to wipe off the blood of his face a couple of months ago, when Draco had broken his nose.

"How are the books coming along? You're not using magic, I hope?" Madame Pince questioned, her eyebrows reaching her thinning hair.

"No, we're not, Professor," Potter replied smoothly. Draco repressed a smile. He hadn't thought Potter would've been able to get his act together this rapidly.

"Good, good. Continue," she said, walking away again.

"That was close," Potter said, releasing a breath of air as the woman was out of earshot.

"Yeah. I didn't know you had it in you to lie that smoothly, Potter," Draco said, a hint of admiration sounding through his voice. Potter just shrugged, using the spell to clean the top shelves. "You do have a small Slytherin part in you, don't you? I like that," Draco continued, squeezing Potter's ass playfully.

"Watch it, Malfoy. Or I'll undress _you_ this time."

"Bring it on," Draco replied. Potter stepped closer, pushing Draco against the newly-cleaned books, pressing his lips onto Draco's. Draco moaned, deepening the kiss, pulling the muscular boy closer greedily. The books could wait.

**To be continued...**

**Please review...**


	17. Chapter 17: Dreaming

**So. This is another piece of the story. I still haven't finished it though, I've been extremely lazy and haven't found the courage to finish it up. Anyway, enjoy this part! It's going to get FLUFFY!**

Chapter 17  
Dreaming

At six o'clock, both boys made their way up to the Room of Requirement separately. Harry saw Malfoy waiting for him to enter the room. The seventh floor was deserted, and Harry threw himself on the boy even before they entered the room.

As they entered, Harry was obvious to the cozy bed at first, but then he scanned the room, frowning. "You picked the wrong spot," he said, looking at Malfoy questionably. The room they were standing in right now was romantically dim, a large four-poster bed standing in the middle. The walls were decorated with large silver and green clothes. The bed was a dark shade of green, as were the covers. At the head of the bed ten large grey pillows were scattered, giving the ensemble a very comfortable look.

"I didn't. You told me you were getting revenge? I can't wait." The sound of Malfoy's hoarse voice created a stirring feeling in Harry's abdomen, and he walked to the bed slowly. His veins were filled up with nerves, and the fear to do something wrong increased with every step that he took.

"Are you retreating, Potter?" Malfoy teased, undoing his tie. Harry wasn't even wearing one. The simple gesture of throwing away the tie created a lumb in Harry's throat. He stepped closer very slowly, while Malfoy walked backwards to the bed.

Why had he been bragging? He didn't know how to get revenge on Malfoy. He had only suggested it because he had been so damn turned on by the blonde. Right now, his erection had vanished, anxiety and nervousness rushing through his veins instead of the adrenalin from before.

"I'm not sure, …" Harry started, his voice cracking. The stopped when he heard himself, not wanting to come across as foolish in front of Malfoy

"Sure of what?" Malfoy questioned, very self-assured. The fact that Harry didn't know how to act around him seemed very amusing for the blonde.

"I've never done this before Malfoy. I'm just, …"

"Don't worry. I'll help you, Potter. There's nothing to it, you'll see," Malfoy said, a white-toothed grin splashed on his face.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Yes I am, Potter," Malfoy replied, a deep growl in his voice. At the sound of it a pleasurable feeling exploded in his stomach, spreading a wave of heat across his body. Harry stepped closer, his eyes never leaving the Slytherin. Malfoy sat down on the bed, starting to unbutton his blouse. His slender fingers unbuttoned the cloth very slowly. Harry felt dizzy, continuing to step closer until he was right before the boy.

"Take off my blouse, Potter," Malfoy whispered suggestingly, leaning closer to the raven-haired teen. As harry took the thin fabric in his shaking hands, Malfoy's cologne entered his nose, spreading a comforting feeling all over his body. Malfoy started to lift Harry's shirt up, and Harry willingly held up his arms.

Harry leaned forward, capturing the pink lips with his own. His nerves evaporated into thin air, deepening the kiss and pressing their chests together. Malfoy pulled Harry on the bed, making him lie down next to him, their lips still touching. The taste of Malfoy in his mouth set his heart on fire, forgetting all his worries from before. Harry caressed Malfoy's neck, making his way down his back. Malfoy moaned in reply, arching his back up as Harry reached his lower back. He slipped one finger under the waistband of Malfoy's trousers, touching the fabric of the Slytherin's boxers. The erotic gesture made Malfoy go wild, deepening the kiss even more and pushing Harry on his flat back as he crawled on top of him.

Harry looked at the young man before him, his eyes dark with lust and his chest rising and falling in a quick pace. His tall upper body was clearly visible, towering over Harry. His collarbones divided his torso in two equal parts. His pink nipples stood out next to the pale flesh and the white blonde hair on his abdomen made Harry's mind go fuzzy. Malfoy's inguinal lines were very long, making Harry's hunger for the boy grow within seconds. He observed the young man for a while, then lifted his hand and touched the porcelain skin carefully and slowly.

Malfoy's breathing was steady, a small smile across his lips. The boy leaned over again, capturing Harry's lips with his, embracing Harry into a passionate kiss. Malfoy's slender fingers caressed Harry's skin, slipping across his collarbones and touching his nipples lightly. He lowered his hands to Harry's abdomen, massaging the skin sensually. Harry's arousal intensified, a growl hanging in the back of his throat.

"Potter. Touch me," Malfoy whispered. Harry lost it completely. He buried his nails in his shoulders, trying not to get swept away by the feeling washing over him. His heart pounded in his throat, his vision was blurred by the desire.

Malfoy's hand reached Harry's waistband, unbuttoning his trousers slowly. The gesture made Harry moan and buck his lips up. "Malfoy," he whispered, so the boy would look up. When silver met green, Harry smiled, a reassuring feeling swelling in his chest. He unbuttoned Malfoys trousers, pulling the tight-fitting jeans down clumsily. Malfoy's boxers came off half, revealing a blonde bush of pubic hair. Harry buried his fingers in it, touching the erotic spot slowly, receiving a moan from the blonde.

Harry's boxers were thrown somewhere in the room, making Harry as naked as the day he was born. His face turned crimson, feeling very exposed all of a sudden. Then, Malfoy pulled back the covers and crawled underneath them.

"Wait. You still need to lose that small piece of clothing," Harry pointed at Malfoy's half removed boxer. Malfoy undid his underwear impudently, as if no one was watching him and it was a daily routine for him. They crawled under the covers together. A comforting heat of another body welcomed Harry. He had never felt this kind of feeling before, but it wouldn't be difficult to get used to.

Malfoy's hands were all over his body again. Harry kissed the boy intensely, taking the make-out session to another stage. Malfoy wrapped his slender fingers around Harry's erection, Harry almost exploded. He had never experienced anything like it.

A pleasurable moan escaped, encouraging Malfoy to continue what he was doing. Harry lowered his hands as well, curious to how it must feel to touch someone in their erogenous zones. Harry softly massaged Malfoy's balls, watching the Slytherin's reaction. Malfoy's breathing became irregular, as Harry continued his gesture. Both boys were caught up in each other, trying to get as close to one another as possible, their tongues touching while pleasuring the other.

Harry released a second before Malfoy. He opened his eyes, dizzy from the intense feeling rushing through his body and saw how Malfoy's eyes fluttered open, hazy with ardor. Green met grey, and Harry knew it was perfect. They remained there for a little while longer, smiling at one another, fighting their tiredness.

Harry couldn't help but drift off into a deep slumber.

* * *

Harry was lying in the green four-poster bed, watching Draco's chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. His silver eyes were closed, his face showing a feeling of utter peace. Harry smiled, touching the small birth mark next to his ear. The first time he had seen it, he had been leaning on one of Draco's strong shoulders, he recalled.

He continued observing the blonde, letting his eyes graze on the beautiful body. When he had reached the center of Draco's body, he could see the boy had a full erection. Harry's eyes grew wide, and shot back up to Draco's face. His silver eyes looked at him amusedly, waiting for a reaction.

"Come here, Harry," he whispered, sending shivers down the raven-haired boy's spine. Harry lied down next to the boy again, trying to calm his own excited body down. As Harry drowned into silver eyes again, Draco lifted up his hand, touching harry's muscular body. Harry moaned, satisfied with where the situation was going and pulled Draco closer into a tight embrace.

Their lips met, wet and demanding. Harry licked Draco's lips to ask for entrance and soon swooned when the delicious taste was welcomed by his taste buds. Draco's hand crawled over him like a spider, undoing all his clothes in a record time. Harry moaned loud, curling up his back and pulling Draco even closer. "Touch me, Draco," Harry whispered.

At this, Draco's hand surrounded Harry's hard-on. Harry's body wanted to burst, the passion anchored in his emerald eyes.

"You like that?" Draco whispered seductively, letting his thumb slip over Harry's head. All Harry could do was nod, moaning even louder. Draco stared placing kisses on his torso, before sucking his nipples. "Please," Harry begged, not really sure what was happening to him.

Draco continued kissing, until he reached Harry's abdomen. He let his fingers swirl through the dark hair, earning yet another moan from the boy underneath him. Then he placed a small kiss on Harry's head, massaging his balls as he did so. Harry spread his legs wider, giving the blonde enough room to touch him all over.

"Draco," Harry whispered, closing his eyes in pleasure. Draco bent down, wrapping Harry in a comfortable heat. Harry bucked his lips up, wanting to feel more of Draco's mouth.

"Potter," Draco said, his tone suddenly very loud compared to the soft whispers from before. Harry tried to ignore the man, closing his eyes again, hoping to experience the ardor again.

"Potter. Wake up. You're dreaming," Draco said again.

Harry's eyes fluttered open, desire making for confusion. He was still in the comfortable room, surrounded by green and grey drapes, looking up into Malfoy's grey eyes. They observed him joyfully, spectating the green-eyed boy from head to toe. Then all of a sudden, Harry became aware of his erection, and his cheeks colored instantly.

"You were having a nice dream, I suppose?" Malfoy questioned, trying his best to disguise his smile.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, still confused. Had he been dreaming? About Malfoy? Having s... - Harry shook his head trying to clear it turning around in the warm, comfortable bed.

"It's three in the morning. We've fallen asleep. We could stay here until tomorrow though." Malfoy was still very buoyant about the whole situation.

"Okay. 'Night," Harry said, burying his head in his pillow trying to cover his embarrassment.

"It's fine you know. I had a great time, this evening," Malfoy confessed, with a honesty Harry hadn't seen coming. The tight knot in his chest became undone, and Harry's anxiety drained away.

"Me too," he replied truthfully, unable to express any of the feelings that were torturing his body right now. He could tell him how good Malfoy made him feel, how confused everything made him, how gladly he wanted to kiss the boy and do everything they did and dreamed all over again.

However, he couldn't put those thoughts to words, and just turned his back to the other boy, trying to get back to sleep. He hoped he didn't dream this time, although he had some contradictory feelings about it. Another part wanted to start badly where the dream had left off because of Malfoy waking him.

* * *

Draco turned around, facing Potter's back. He had been observing him for almost an hour, and the movements had been very clear. Potter was having a wet dream. Draco smiled, wondering if he would have any part in that dream. He still couldn't believe what had happened before.

The fact that Potter had touched him, made his heart swell up with mirth, a ineradicable smile plastered on his face. He and Potter. It was surreal. Everything that had happened between them in the past few weeks was surreal.

He had woken Potter up, because otherwise he would have dirtied the sheets, and Draco didn't want that. It would already be embarrassing enough, catching the boy in an intense dream, let alone making the Boy Who Lived clean up his mess.

Draco laughed out loud, a cheerful chuckle filling the silent room. A couple minutes ago, the Room of Requirement had been filled with sexually oriented moans, making Draco's body aroused in no time. He observed Potter's strong back. The muscles were solid from playing Quidditch all the time. Draco held out his hand, trailing a finger between Potters shoulder blades.

He couldn't believe his luck. Potter had wanted him, had allowed him to touch him, to kiss him and to experience the most intense moment of his life with him. How was it possible? A few months ago, he would have never imagined the Chosen One would change his beliefs about him. He was after all a Death Eater.

The disturbing thought caused an uneasy feeling to settle in Draco's stomach. He would have to tell the boy about his task. Draco was aware that Dumbledore was a significant figure in Potter's life, otherwise the Headmaster wouldn't be trying to protect him so badly. Draco knew it would break Potter's heart. And then the bespectacled teen would break Draco's heart in return, by rejecting him and refusing to talk to him ever again.

Sometimes Draco hoped he would wake up, and none of this had happened. He hoped he had never gotten to know the Potter he knew now, because it would be even more difficult to forget the sweet, caring youngster that was lying only a few inches apart from him. It's hard to be abstained by the one you love.

He crept closer, pressing his chest against the strong body, wrapping his arms around him and burrying his nose in Potter's dark hair. He didn't want to think about the Death Eater thing. He didn't want to think about the task. He just wanted to be here with Potter, together in their secret spot, forgetting about the world around them.

Soon enough, Draco fell asleep, dreaming about broomsticks and raven haired boys.

**To be continued…**

**Please review!**


	18. Chapter 18: Collison

**This is the last but one chapter. I'll try to update chapter 19 by Sunday, to have the grand finale. And to surprise you guys a little more, I've come up with a tiny little epilogue. **

**Enjoy this for now. **

Chapter 18

Collision

Monday morning, Harry had to say goodbye to Malfoy again, splitting up to attend their class. After such a great night, the day passed really slowly. Harry could only focus on what had happened after dark, repeating it in his head like his favorite movie. Soon enough, the hands on the clock indicated it was classes were over.

Harry wanted to run up to the seventh floor as soon as the bell had rung. Their last period had ended, and he was already making his way to the staircase, informing his friends he would be meeting with Silvergreen.

"When will we finally meet her?" Ron questioned, following the Gryffindor up the stairs. Harry was trying to get his Charms' book back into his bag while climbing the stairs. Hermione went the other way, having to get to Runes, her next class. Harry shrugged in reply. He had feared Ron would start asking questions, but he wasn't ready to answer them yet.

"You'll meet her soon enough, Ron. I don't want people to talk, you know." It wasn't entirely a lie, the only word that didn't fit in the sentence was 'her'. That tiny little difference could unleash a catastrophe.

"Talk about what? You never care what others say, Harry. I know you better than that, you know. Why has the war against Malfoy stopped all of a sudden? Aren't you trying to find out what he's up to?" Harry had to hand it to his friend, it was a bit obvious that he wasn't nagging about Malfoy being up to something anymore. The main reason for that is that he spent _any _time he could with the Death Eater.

"I've got my hands full with Silvergreen, Ron. Quidditch season has started and I'm so far behind with school already that I'm prioritizing right now." Yet again, there were no lies present.

"Go ahead. I don't know why you meet with her in the Room, though. You've never been so secretive about anything before. I know you're not telling me something." Harry tried to suppress a sigh. He didn't like to keep his friends out of things, but he didn't want Ron to find out about his _girl_friend being Malfoy.

"I'm telling you everything I can. I just don't want to tell you who Silvergreen is. She doesn't want that." They were walking on the third floor right now, making their way to a staircase to reach the fifth, a small shortcut they always took getting to Defence Against The Dark Arts.

"Why have you told Hermione then? Does she understand it better than I?" Ron replied. His blue eyes were filled with hurt, a feeling Harry didn't want to see in his friend's eyes. He had already lost Ron's friendship once, in fourth year. This period had been one of the hardest and dullest moments in his life. He had always had Ron's support, even when the whole school was convinced he was Salazar's successor in their second year at Hogwarts. He really didn't want him to ignore him like he had done that year.

"Hermione doesn't know either." Harry started climbing a round staircase. This one was so narrow that they had to walk behind each other. Harry lead the way, unable to see Ron's face anymore.

"Seriously Harry? Stop trying to pretend that you know nothing. What were you thinking? My stupid friend won't find out anyway?" At this, Harry stopped in his tracks. Had Hermione told Ron about Malfoy?"

"No, Ron-"

"Stop lying to me, Harry. I mean it. I know Hermione knows about it because I heard you two talking about it. I was waiting until you would tell me, but you haven't just yet. I couldn't take it anymore." Ron's deep blue eyes were very watery, showing that he was really affected by Harry's behavior. Guilt started to boil in his stomach, but indignation made its way to his veins faster.

"You've been eavesdropping?"

"I didn't mean to!" Ron's hurt was substituted by angriness. "I just wanted to know whether Hermione was still angry about Lavender. Lavender and I are not so close anymore, and I know I hurt Hermione's feelings. So I used Fred and George's Extendable Ears to listen if you were going to talk about, and I heard you tell about _Silvergreen." _Ron confessed. It was as if someone had dropped a block of ice in Harry's stomach. The cold feeling numbed his entire body. He observed his red haired friend for several seconds, not able to compose a reply.

"It's not that I didn't want to tell you, Ron-" Harry tried again, but was interrupted by his fellow Gryffindor again.

"It's exactly that, Harry. I know you think I wouldn't understand because I'm a boy. But the thing is, being gay in the Wizard world isn't such a bad thing as in the Muggle world. It's not taboo." This struck Harry like lightning, a tiny pinch of heat warming the frozen depths in his stomach.

"It's not?" Harry asked, dumbfounded. He really hadn't seen that one coming. He was starting to feel better, the awful feeling about Ron finding out ebbing away.

"No. It isn't. But what the bloody hell are you trying to do with Malfoy?" Ron questioned. Harry could see he had wanted to ask this question all along. Unfortunately for his friend, Harry didn't know the answer to that question either.

"I don't know. I think I like him," Harry came clean. He didn't meet Ron's eyes, afraid of what they would give away. He was hoping for the best, but it _was _Ron they were talking about. He had always had a low opinion about Malfoy.

"_Like_ him? Man, this is fucked up, Harry and you know it. You lie to me without feeling any regrets whatsoever and you start getting thick with Malfoy? I feel like I don't know you anymore." Ron's disappointed voice made Harry feel like Ron had just stabbed him in the back.

"Ron. It's not what you think. Malfoy's okay when you get to know him, really." Harry tried to explain, but it was no use.

"And that's the reason why we barely talk? You prefer talking to that wretch of a Death Eater?" Ron's words were hard and ruthless.

"I thought you were okay with me being gay." Harry suddenly felt the ice freeze in his stomach again. The cold spread out and filled his heart. His friend wasn't supportive.

"I am. But I'm NOT okay with you fibbing and messing around with that filthy Slytherin," Ron roared, towering over Harry as he tried to make a statement. Harry immediately put his defenses up, taking the offensive as he bellowed back.

"I'm free to do whatever I want, Ron. You don't have a say in it. Hermione's okay with it, so just go back to Lavender." At this, Ron's expression turned fossilized.

"Piss off," he snapped, turning around and going down the stairs again. Harry shook his head. He had just picked a fight with his best friend over Malfoy. Hermione had been so understanding about it, but he understood why Ron was so defensive about it. After all, he, along with Ron, had hated the blonde for over five long years. Still, Harry felt left alone, as if it was Ron who had let _him _down and not the other way around.

Harry reached the Room of Requirement, still pondering over Ron and wondering if things would ever be the same again. Malfoy wasn't there yet, so he sat down on a carton box. A slight hinge of disappointment filled his stomach. He had really hoped Malfoy would be here to console him. Suddenly, just before Harry was about to drown himself in some more self-pity, he felt how two slender arms were wrapped around his waist, and he couldn't help but smile.

"The Brooding Boy on The Carton Box," Malfoy whispered in his ear. His hot breath tingled and released a set of feelings that fought with the guilt for Ron. Harry's face lit up, a smile brightening his mood instantly.

"I thought you weren't here yet," Harry said, still feeling a little startled. He pouted as he spoke, not aware that he did so.

"I wanted to surprise you. What were you thinking about?" Malfoy asked, having seen Harry's deep frown and distant look.

"Nothing. What did you want to talk about?" Harry asked. Malfoy's happy smile fell, a sigh escaping from his pink lips. This drowned out his own enthusiasm as well.

"I still need to tell you what my task is. I wanted to do that today, but I can tell somebody upset you already. It can wait," Malfoy explained. Harry's features softened upon Malfoy's kindness. He really cared about him. Harry didn't want this task to burden Malfoy any longer, so he complied quickly.

"No, it's fine. I can handle it." Harry observed Malfoy's pointy features. His nose bridge was straight, ending in a small turned up nose. His lips were thin and the color matched his skin color. He wanted to tell the blonde all about Ron's nasty behavior, but he didn't want to put more weight on the thinner boy's shoulders.

"Well. I really need to get it off my chest. After I got the Mark, I was informed about my task, to do my bit for the Dark Side. It's, … complicated. I really don't know how to say it in a decent way."

There was a long silence before Malfoy spoke again, his voice emotionless. "I have to kill Dumbledore."

As Malfoy brought out those last words, Harry's eyes grew wide, the anger from before overpowering his body in no time. His happiness evaporated into thin air. The fury rushing through his veins made the Boy Who Lived momentarily blind, standing up from his carton box.

"WHAT?!" He yelled, his emerald eyes filled with hurt, angriness and disappointment. Malfoy averted his grey eyes guiltily, whispering a soft 'I'm sorry'. But Harry was oblivious to the tears welling up in the Slytherin's eyes.

"You could have told me about this!" Harry screamed, knocking over some of the rubbish that was within his reach. His temper rose uncontrollably, smashing several object into tiny pieces. It was a good thing he hadn't reached for his wand yet.

"I was trying to tell you right now."

"Now's too late Malfoy! I just knew I couldn't trust you. Have you any idea how important Dumbledore is to me?" Harry wasn't able to see anymore, his vision blurred by the angriness, and hot tears streaming down as he spoke. He may have been able to deal with it on another time, but right now, after the fight with Ron, it was impossible.

"No, I-"

"No, you haven't! You're just convinced he's an old fool, aren't you! Filthy little Death Eater. I can't believe I was starting to like you! I hate you, Malfoy!" Harry bellowed, his voice cracking because of the sadness trying to extinguish his burning rage. He turned around and left the room in a whirr of robes. If he would stay any longer, he would have collapsed on the spot. After Malfoy was out of sight, Harry bumped his head into a wall.

How could he have been so foolish to fall in love with the wrong person? He should have known trusting Malfoy was a dangerous thing to do! Ron was right. Malfoy was just as cunning as a fox.

Tears filled his eyes, the betrayal shattering his heart into pieces. Dumbledore was one of the few people he could trust. Yet Voldemort was ready to pick another victim to haunt Harry. Losing Sirius had been hard, he still didn't know how to deal with the sorrow he felt. He had only known the best friend for his father for a brief moment, the loss had been unbearable.

Harry couldn't imagine losing Dumbledore. It had never even occurred to him that Dumbledore might die. He'd always been invincible. He had an answer to any question. He was the man who knew what to do in any situation. The man he had been so angry with last year, and who had just let him destroy all the funny devices in his office, without yelling back. Harry closed his eyes, no longer able to hold back as hot streams of tears made their way down. He had trusted the boy over his best friend. And that hurt even more.

The only thing he wished right now, was that he could disappear.

* * *

Draco's eyes burned, as he was left alone in the Room of Requirement. He had expected Potter to react like this, but still it hurt to see the Boy Who Lived like that. The emotion's that had haunted Potter's eyes had made large cuts in Draco's heart. The last thing Draco wanted to do was hurt him. He had wanted to kiss away the green-eyed boy's tears, but he had been paralyzed. Paralyzed by fear, and by sadness.

He had fought so hard to hold back his own feelings, that he had let Potter ramble and come to his own conclusion. The Chosen One hadn't even tried to listen, even though all Draco had needed was a little time to explain himself. He couldn't blame Potter though. He was the only one to blame.

"_Prudish coward." _Draco heard Potter's voice in his head. The man was right. Draco was unable to be courageous, let alone solve a problem this big. But why was Draco to blame for the Dark Lord's actions? Draco knew Dumbledore knew about his faith, since Severus had already informed him he wasn't on his own. However, Severus could disappear off the face of Earth if Draco had any say in it. The only person he wanted right now was Potter.

The thing they had shared had been beyond beautiful, and it tore Draco apart to know it was all over now. There was no way they could still fix what had been broken. Potter and he were never meant to be. His faith collided with Potter's in a way that was irretrievable.

His eyes overflowed with hot tears, sorrow filling his heart. He had predicted this to happen. Still, it didn't lessen the heartache. As soon as the first tears had settled on his cheeks, Draco collapsed, losing all control over his body.

Draco's eyes became red and puffy, tears falling down like torrential rain. The more he thought about it, the deeper he was lost in self pity, grief and powerlessness. He pulled up his legs, holding his body as close as he could as a cold feeling came over his body.

Potter would _never_ love him.

**To be continued…**

**Please review! (Really, I insist)**


	19. Chapter 19: Quidditch

**I'mm soooo sorry! I know I'm posting this a little late, but I had a good lie in this morning. Please note that time can vary, so right now it's noon at my place. I want to thank ALL of you for the lovely reviews on the previous chapter! Thanks so much. This is it! Last part!**

**Enjoy… (I think I'll update the epilogue sometime today too. I have to rework that one though, so it might take some time)**

Chapter 19  
Quidditch

Harry was startled when someone touched his shoulder. He had been trying to disappear into the wall, but he hadn't succeeded yet. First, he thought it was Malfoy, trying to make it up, - and he was ready to tell him to go screw himself - but as he looked up, he met brown eyes. Harry's heart was filled with relief, partly because he didn't want Malfoy to see him like this, and partly because he still had a friend that cared about him.

It felt good to finally be able to express what had been weighing on his heart, and all he needed was one look before the words started flowing from his mouth.

"Mione. I've been so stupid," he lamented, trying to wipe away his tears. It was useless, they just kept coming. He actually didn't want Hermione to see him cry either. He couldn't help it, but seeing his friend only made his stream of tears increase.

"Harry. It's okay. Don't cry," Hermione whispered, squatting down next to him. She seemed shocked to find Harry like this. Harry immediately turned his head away.

"NO! It's not! Hermione, you don't understand," Harry cried, hiding his face in his arms. "It's all ruined," he continued, his voice muffled. His friend looked puzzled, but Harry couldn't see it because he was looking at the inside of his arms.

"What's ruined, Harry? I came looking for you because Ron told me you two had an argument." The fight with Ron came back within seconds, increasing the miserable feeling filling up his stomach.

"We did. About Malfoy. But he was right, 'Mione. He had been right all this time." Hermione looked confused, and sat down next to him. The gesture made Harry even more emotional, while he already felt like he was going to explode.

"Harry, you're all upset. Why don't you try to calm down and tell me what happened." Hermione talked in a soothing way, and her words calmed down Harry's hearts. The boy took a few calming breaths before speaking again.

"It's Malfoy."

"What about him? Did you have a fight with him too?" The scene replayed in Harry's mind, and he immediately felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff again, driven into a corner.

"Yes. No. Not exactly. He told me about his task." Understanding grew in Hermione's eyes, and she placed a soothing hand on Harry's shoulder. As Harry spoke, his mind jumped to conclusions again. Ron had just been trying to warn him. He had done what any friend would have done, and Harry hadn't even tried to listen. He had just done what he felt like, neglecting his best friend's feelings.

"What is it?" Harry knew Hermione was talking about the task, but he couldn't get the words past his lips. He just shook his head, lying it down on his knees again. He wanted to stop crying, especially in front of Hermione, but he found it impossible. The last thirty minutes kept replaying in Harry's mind. It made Harry want to push the 'Stop' button Muggles had on their electric appliances, but unfortunately his mind didn't have such a button. He decided to just get over with it.

"He has to kill professor Dumbledore," Harry brought out. His voice was raw and cracked as he spoke. His tears had messed up his face, lines showing on his face where his tears rolled before splattering on his shirt.

"No. Harry, professor Dumbledore won't let him get killed. You need to calm down. There will be a solution." Hermione remained very down-to-earth, which reassured Harry. He lifted his head from his arms again, a broken haunting his eyes.

"It's a set up, Hermione. He just tricked me, only because it would be easier for him to finish his task, that's all it is." As Harry spoke, new tears filled his emerald eyes again, the green orbs were broken windows to his hearts, overflowing with despair.

All Hermione could do was shake her head an tap her friend's back. It would be useless to tell Harry that Malfoy probably didn't have a choice. He wouldn't listen .She did what was expected of a good friend and consoled the Boy Who Lived.

* * *

Draco wasn't about to lay down and die just yet. If Potter wanted to be stubborn and reproach him for what his father had made him do, than he would do anything possible to change the Chosen One's mind. The first period on Tuesday the Slytherins were paired up with the Gryffindors.

Slughorn was late for their Potion's class, but Draco didn't mind. The lessons had become much more dull since the old fool had started to teach them. Potter was the centre of all his attention. It was not that Draco was jealous or so, but Potter had never been good at the subject, and all of a sudden he was an example student. Plus, Potter really didn't need all that extra attention. It was usually as if a huge luminous arrow was hanging above his head.

A lot of girls giggled when the teen passed by, self-evidently obvious to all the extra attention. The Chosen One status wasn't the only thing that had boosted his imago, this extra flurry of attention was also due to the boy's looks. Formerly, he had been rather short and bony, but upon reaching his teens he had grown a few inches. As he spent all his spare time flying around the Quidditch Pitch, the Gryffindor had become very muscular as well.

All of that had been his. Until yesterday.

Draco looked at Potter's desk. He was sitting next to Seamus, which was odd, because he always sat next to Weasley. Draco could still see Potter's pondering face, and assumed he was in a fight with the Red head. He felt guilty for making the situation worse, but the truth had to be said sooner or later.

Slughorn was writing the instructions on the blackboard – Draco rolled his eyes because the man could easily just make them appear with a swing of his wand – and Draco copied the notes into his work-book. After finished the lines, he looked at Potter's desk again. The boy pressed his tongue between his lips while writing the instructions on a spare piece of parchment. There were probably some mistakes in there already, one of the main reasons why Potter sucked at Potions.

Draco smiled unwantedly, taking a small piece of parchment as well, and wrote down.

_You'll have to hear me out some time. I want to see you again tonight._

Draco folded the note and made it fly to Potter's table, slightly nudging his hand before dropping it on his desk. Potter looked up. Their eyes met briefly, Potter's green eyes were dark with angriness, and Draco averted his eyes quickly. He didn't like it when Potter looked at him like that. The threatening look sent cold chills down his spine.

Nevertheless, the raven-haired teen opened the piece of parchment, scribbled a couple lines and used Wingardium Leviosa as well to return the note to Draco. The Slytherin opened the paper eagerly.

_I already did hear you out, Malfoy. I don't want to hear it again. I should've known you'd only want to hurt people._

Draco's heart sank in his chest. How shallow was Potter actually? He looked up at Slughorn, and saw he was still straying off the Amortentia Potion, the world's strongest Love Potion. Draco already knew there were a large number of side effects upon taking the potion, so he didn't pay any attention and wrote a reply.

_No you didn't, Potter. You just started screaming and I couldn't get a word in edgeways. If you don't come to the Room, I'll find you anyway._

Potter seemed surprised by the note, and wrote back again. Draco smiled when another folded piece of parchment reached his desk. This earned him a questioning look from Pansy who had dozed off for a couple minutes, but had now noticed his secretive messages.

_Whatever, Malfoy. I don't trust you anymore. You'd better leave me alone. If you don't, I'll _make _you leave me alone._

Draco felt a pinch in his heart upon reading the harmful words. Why had he even tried? His confidence was reduced to zero. He had hoped he would have been capable of explaining his task to Potter. But he had failed.

He really didn't want to make matters worse and decided it would be better if they separated ways.

* * *

That evening, Harry refused to go to the Room of Requirement. It was obvious Malfoy would be there, and he really didn't want to see him. The anger had made room for disappointment and Harry really didn't want to see the begging look in those silver eyes. He would become weak.

Instead, he headed for the Quidditch Pitch. He exited the castle, breathing in the fresh air. It wasn't that he didn't _want _to give Malfoy a chance, everything was just so difficult, yet predictable. He had expected Malfoy to hurt him. But what if Malfoy really couldn't help his task? Well, that didn't mean he had to kill professor Dumbledore was it? Harry would rather die himself instead of killing his professor.

That's what he had done all those years. Sacrificed himself. But it had never worked out. He would have rather switched with Cedric, or with Sirius. They had not deserved to die. Harry did. He should've never survived when his parents were killed by Voldemort.

Well, Harry was disappointed in Malfoy. He should stand up. He should've said he wouldn't do it, that he would rather give his life. However, that wasn't an easy decision to make. Harry knew how sly and powerful Voldemort was. And he knew Slytherin's had very little bravery in them. He couldn't blame Malfoy. It wasn't his fault his father had delivered him to Voldemort. It wasn't his fault that he was forced to take the Dark Mark.

Harry sighed, arriving on the big open field. He walked to the dressing room, changing his clothes for his Quidditch uniform. Before mounting his broom, he scanned the area. He still hadn't forgotten Malfoy had been there once to spy on him. Well, it wasn't exactly to spy him, but Harry could still feel the numbness in his fingers, after the blonde had paralyzed him and left him to freeze. It was for that particular blonde he was hiding right now. Harry's heart sank into his stomach when he saw the Slytherin sitting in the tribune.

At first, Harry decided to just go back to the castle, but that would be a stupid thing to do. He had every right to be here. If Malfoy wanted to talk to him, he would have to get Harry off his broom first. Harry smiled when he took off, the wind messing up his hair. He flew a few laps around the pitch warming up his muscles.

Harry was just about to go down and release the snitch when he saw something glistering on Malfoys cheek. A tear. He was crying! Harry flew to the grandstand, landing softly next to the Slytherin. Seeing the boy so worked up softened Harry's features. He sat down next to the teen, placing a hand on his shoulders.

"What are you doing here Potter?" Malfoy sneered, or at least he tried. His voice cracked in the middle, and it didn't give the wanted effect.

"Why are you crying?" Harry questioned. He wanted to be supportive, but yet his voice sounded accusing, as if the Slytherin didn't have any reason to be sad. The latter suppressed a sob, and looked up at Harry. His grey eyes were deep pools of sorrow.

"I don't want to talk about it, Potter. I thought you didn't want to see me?"

"I didn't," Harry said, thinking back to when he got the note. "I was pissed, Malfoy. But that doesn't mean I like to see you cry. What's wrong?"

"I never had a choice, Potter. It's not fair." Malfoy looked at this feet, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry urged the boy to continue.

"Of all people, I thought you would understand how it felt. You never had a choice to be the Boy Who Lived. The thing is, I never had a choice either. I have to be a Death Eater because of my last name. I'd rather be a nameless student, Potter. Then everything would be so much easier. But I'm not. No matter how hard I try, people will never trust me." Malfoy paused to sniff and swallow back another flood of tears and then continued.

" But you, they've always trusted you. You didn't have to prove yourself, you didn't even have to say a word. People just did. They have faith in you. I understand that it's hard for you to keep your reputation but at least you have a reputation. No matter how hard I try, I will always be a Malfoy. I will always be regarded as a Death Eater."

"That's not true," Harry breathed, his eyes pricking with tears as Malfoy had spoken. The young man had said some wise words.

"It is. You don't trust me. I just told you what my task was, and immediately you explode and hate me. I didn't tell you I would kill Dumbledore. I can't kill a man. I'm not capable of doing that. And that's nothing to be proud of Potter. It's just another failure."

"It's not, Malfoy. Come on, keep it together. It was a shock for both of us. I'm sorry I didn't let you finish, but Dumbledore's one of the few people I have left, and I really don't want to lose him. Voldemort has already taken so much."

"I can't help it, Potter. It's either him or me. I understand if you pick the old fool." Harry could hear the angriness boil in Malfoy's throat.

"I'm not taking sides. I don't want you to die either, Malfoy. You're not a bad person. At first I believed you were, but I know what you're made of now. You've got your heart at the right place." At this Malfoy looked up, meeting Harry's eyes. His eyes begged for that to be true.

"I don't. I'm just following in my father's footsteps. You told me yourself back in the Room."

"I was angry. I was utterly shocked by what you told me, Malfoy. How would you react if I told you I would have to kill your mother or die myself?"

"Everyone hates my guts, Potter. You don't have to pretend otherwise. I'm not someone you can save, you know. What we had is beyond anything I could imagine, and I'm glad I've experienced what it was like." Malfoy's melodramatic tone was getting on Harry's nerves and he rolled his eyes at the blonde.

"Who says it's over?" he snapped, his voice growling.

"You said you didn't trust me anymore. That's practically the same, isn't it?" Malfoy's tone was reproachful this time.

"No. How many times do I have to tell you: I was confused. I was angry and shocked. Excuse me for taking it out on you, but-"

"You didn't come here to apologize, Potter."

"No I didn't. But what you said before, it makes sense. I have never given you a chance to be yourself, until a few weeks ago. And look where it had taken us. I'm going to be there for you, Malfoy. I will help you with your task and we'll take on Voldemort together."

"So you don't hate me for having to kill the Headmaster?" Hope sounded through in the blonde's voice.

"No. I hate Voldemort for forcing you to do that. And I hate myself for falling for it. You're right. Everyone has prejudices. I know how it feels because last year everyone hated me for saying Voldemort was back. And I'm angry with myself for not seeing it until now. We're alike, Malfoy. We're very different, but yet the same."

"Are you sure you didn't fall off your broom earlier?" Malfoy joked, meeting Harry's eyes for the first time."

"Very funny," Harry growled. Nonetheless, he smiled at the Slytherin. "Come here."

Malfoy didn't hesitate for a second. Their lips met and Harry knew he had made the right decision. Malfoy tasted like home.

* * *

Draco was surprised about how fast everything had turned out to be okay. He gladly allowed Potters cold hands to touch his bare back and smiled against the crook of the raven-haired boy's neck.

"I'm cold, Potter. Let's go inside." Potter frowned, pulling a face because they wouldn't be able to continue, but nodded nonetheless.

"I'll get changed first," he replied. Draco smiled, following the Gryffindor to the Quidditch dressing rooms.

"Mind if I join you?" Potter seemed surprised, but didn't object. They reached the room and Potter started to undo his Quidditch clothing.

"I might have to take a shower, though," he added. At this, Draco's smile just widened.

"Well, me too," he said, taking of his coat. He saw Potter swallow, but the shorter teen didn't say anything to prevent Draco from taking of all his clothes. It took Potter a while to undress, but eventually both boys were naked.

Potter turned the tab to start the shower and waited until the water was hot.

"You're sexy, Potter," Draco said, a husky tone in his voice. Potter's eyes widened, and stood there speechless.

"You're not very talkative, now are you?" Draco teased. He stepped closer, caressing Potter's chest with his index finger. He felt how the boy slowly released the air from his lungs, as to calm himself down.

"Don't brag, Malfoy. You won't be talkative once I'm finished with you," Potter said, showing more confidence that he actually had. Draco revealed his pearly white teeth in yet another smile.

"You're funny." They both stepped under the shower, their chests touching.

"Remember that day in Filches' office?" Potter whispered. Draco nodded.

"Yeah, you were as red a tomato that day."

"Stop pestering me, Malfoy. I might take revenge on you right now, you know?" Potter said. He was getting more comfortable around Draco. Draco observed the boy. Boy? He wasn't a boy anymore. His muscles were very pleasing to the eye. His tanned chest was hairless, but his abdomen was covered in black hair, leading to the icing on the cake.

Draco had to admit Potter was very fine down there. He chuckled at his own thoughts and met Potter's eyes again. The boy had taken his glasses of, and the green orbs came to full advantage.

"Like what you see?" Potter growled, his voice raspy. Draco felt a tuck behind his belly button and leaned forward. Their lips met, and yet again, Draco felt his legs become wobbly. He trailed his hands over Potter's strong back as their kiss deepened.

Potter's strong hands pinched Draco's nippled, whereupon the blonde moaned against Potter's lips. His hands touched him all over, coming closer and closer to Draco's hotness. The moment Potter had started to strip, Draco's member had responded. Right now, he was nearly losing it.

Potter's hand surrounded his base, making Draco gasp for air. Potter captured his lips again. Draco lost track of time and forgot all about his whereabouts. The only thing that mattered was Potter.

Draco leaned closer to the teen, his lips nearly touching Potter's ear.

"Make love to me, Potter," he whispered, biting his earlobe playfully. Potter's eyes widened in shock, but Draco had seen the flicker of lust behind all the greenness.

"A-are you sure?" Potter stammered. His uncertainty increased Draco's desire, and he nodded.

"I've never done this before," the raven-haired boy whispered.

"Me neither, Potter. It doesn't matter. I'll help you." At this Potter nodded. The nervousness was sensible and showed all over his body. Draco smiled. He reached for his wand and cast a lubricant charm.

"What are you doing?" Potter asked.

"Preparing," Draco replied, smiling at the boy. He was very nervous himself, but he had to remain calm for Potter's sake. He didn't want the boy to back down now.

"Now, I need you to first penetrate me with your fingers," Draco instructed. Potter grumbled.

"I know how it goes, Malfoy. I'm not a fool." Potter leaned forward, capturing the blonde in another mind blowing kiss and penetrated him with his fingers in an experienced way as if this was daily routine.

At first Draco tensed, but then Potter hit the spot. Pleasure spread through his body, as Potter's finger entered. Draco moaned, running his hands all over Potter's body. His breathing became irregular.

When he was at the edge of enjoyment, he felt how Potter filled up his body. Potter hesitated at first, but then moved slowly inside Draco. His strong arms held him up against the shower tiles, and Draco wrapped his legs around the boy's waist, embracing the raven-haired teen in a tight hug.

"Are you okay?" Potter whispered.

"Never better," Draco smiled, running a hand through the black wet hair.

Their bodies moved in harmony. Draco threw his head in his neck, moaning in pleasure as Potter worked his magic on him. He had never felt this kind of sensation before. The white blur of an orgasm blinded him momentarily. A few seconds later, Potter released as well.

Draco opened his eyes, meeting with bright green ones. There were no words needed to express how both boys were feeling. The emotion in Potter's eyes could not be mistaken.

_Love. _

Draco pulled the man close, holding him tightly as he spoke.

"I love you too, Harry," Draco whispered, before pressing his lips on Potter's hot ones. They kissed as if their lives depended on it. Draco broke the kiss. Potter blinked a few times, and then flashed him his best smile, causing a tingling feeling in Draco's stomach.

The hot water kept streaming down, while Potter had only eye for him. Right now, Draco had no fears. Everything felt right at the moment, and he wished this could last forever.

He'd never been more in love.

* * *

Now that everything was sorted out with Malfoy, Harry still had another conflict to solve. He didn't like fighting with Ron, so he decided to get on with that instantly. All was rosy again between Malfoy and he, causing Harry to beam with energy.

He entered the Gryffindor Common Room and saw his two best friends sitting in their usual spot in front of the fireplace. Harry made his way to the crimson sofa's taking the empty one next Ron.

"Hi, Ron. We need to talk," Harry started. He didn't know where his bravery was coming from. Hermione smiled at him encouragingly, but Ron glared in his direction.

"I don't want to talk." The young man surely hadn't forgotten.

"I really didn't mean to hide it from you, you know. I just thought you-"

"That I wouldn't understand? You're right. I don't. Explain it to me Harry? Why Malfoy?" Ron put so much venom in his words, that Harry faltered at first. He sighed before answering.

"He's changed. For the better," Harry said. Ron's expression remained furious.

"Why don't you go to him then? Why sit here when you can spend the evening with the lousy blonde?"

"Ron. Stop calling him names. I really like him so-" But Ron interrupted him again.

"If you like him, then don't come near me." Ron went back to reading his book and Harry looked at Hermione in despair.

"Ronald. Harry's trying to apologize." Hermione nudged the Redhaid's knee, demanding a reaction.

"I don't want to hear it, Hermione."

"For Merlin's sake, Ron. He's just apologizing for not telling you. Malfoy has changed, I've seen it. So please forgive Harry for keeping a secret."

"He's befriending the enemy, Hermione." Ron's blue eyes were unforgiving.

"Yeah. I've heard that one before." Hermione rolled her eyes, and went back to her own book.

"Ron, I'm not gonna give up on Malfoy just because you don't like him. You haven't even tried to be friendly."

"He hasn't exactly been friendly the past few years, now has he, Harry? Or are you suffering from amnesia all of a sudden?"

"No. I just gave him a second chance. I'm not asking you to marry him, Ron. I'm just asking you to forgive me. If you don't like him, well that's your problem. I just want to be friends with both of you."

Ron pulled a face. "You're not exactly friends with the Death Eater. You're kissing him." Disgust dripped of Ron's face. Harry's temper was rising, making it difficult for the Boy Who Lived not to start another fight with the Ginger.

"You don't hate gay people Ron. You just can't stand Malfoy. Just forgive Harry and be normal again," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes demonstratively, clearly not understanding why the boys could make such a big deal out of it.

"Whatever," Ron grumbled. But his features had softened. "But if the ferret tries to annoy me, I'm going after him."

"Deal. I'll ask him to behave." Harry smiled victoriously.

"Is he your dog all of a sudden?"

"No! Why? He just does stuff for me. Because he likes me," Harry explained, arching his back while he did so. He was proud to say Malfoy liked him. He hadn't said it before, but it felt just right. Harry's mind went fuzzy when he thought back to their shower moment. He looked at both his friends, smiling joyfully. Ron looked at him with disbelief, and Hermione smiled with admiration.

This would do. Harry nodded, grabbing a book from his bag and starting the Defense Against The Dark Arts assignment. Ron leaned over .

"I haven't done that one either. Why don't we split it up?" Ron suggested. Harry nodded, much to Hermione's dislike. It was as if they never had an argument.

The fireplace threw a hot gloom across the room, embracing the three friends with a comfortable heat. 3 months ago, Harry had been all by himself on this very chair, writing down how he had lost both his friends. Right now, it was as if all that had never happened.

And he owed it all to Malfoy. Harry dozed off thinking about those silvery eyes and pointy features. The homework just wasn't as captivating as the Slytherin.

* * *

Draco was waiting in the Room of Requirement again. The last time he'd been there Potter and he had gotten into a fight. Draco was glad that was over now. He couldn't wait for the young man to arrive. He needed one of his kissed desperately.

Fortunately for Draco, Potter arrived shortly after him.

"Finally," the black-haired teen growled, pushing Draco against one of the shelves. His red lips engorged Draco's pink ones, causing a hot, affectionate wave of emotion to wash over the teen. Only Potter could make him swoon like this.

The kiss intensified, messing up their robes as both boys tried to undo one another's clothes. Tension started to build in Draco's body as Potter's muscular hands found their way under his blouse. His warm hand met his soft skin. With his touch, he sent shivers down Draco's spine.

"Wait, wait," Draco whispered, before Potter could engulf him on another joyride.

"What's wrong?" Potter asked, a puzzled expression in his green orbs. His black eyebrows were knitted together in a frown.

"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you don't hate me."

"You're being silly."

"For having to kill Dumbledore, I mean," Draco explained, his tone sounding as if he was talking to a four-year-old.

"No. I don't hate you, I already told you. We're in this together, Malfoy. You don't have to kill _anyone. _We'll fight Voldemort together."

"Does that line work with all the girls?" Draco teased, caressing the shorter boy's lip with his index finger.

"I'm not trying to hit on you by saying that! I don't need to, you're already crazy about me."

"Thanks, Potter."

"You're welcome."

"Not only for trying to save me from my task. For loving me just the way I am. Dark Mark included." At this, Potter smiled, pulling up the sleeve of Draco's left arm.

"It's actually kind of a tough look. It gives you more masculinity," Potter nodded, touching the inked skin.

"Am I not masculine enough for you, Mr. Potter?" Draco questioned, pushing the boy off indignantly. He stripped off all his clothes, stepping closer to a wide-eyed Potter. The Chosen One's mouth was half open. "Is _this _not masculine enough for you?" Draco hissed, his voice deep with lust. He posed in front of the raven-haired teen, who observed him intently.

He saw Potter swallow, before embracing the Slytherin in another mind-blowing kiss. Draco smiled inwardly. He would never grow tired of this.

**The End!**

* * *

**So, another thank you to all of you who are reading this. This means soo much to me. I want out a special thanks to HarrehPottah196, Tenshi Yami- Angel of Darkness and They Were Smiley Smiles, for reviewing throughout the whole story. You've been very supportive.**

**I also want to thank AngelPheonixia, joymullen, PandoraShitsuji, georgeweasley16 and Diddleymaz for reviewing so often. Of course, I want to thank all of the guests and other people reviewing for their support as well.**

**But the story wouldn't have been possible if it weren't for one person in particular. She's the most important person in my life. Tessa, thank you for always helping me coming up with ideas! I love you soo much!**

**NOTE: For the readers who read this story after it being finished, don't forget to review! I'll still read and reply to them! **


	20. Chapter 20: Epilogue

**As promised, a small epilogue that I came up with!**

Epilogue

Harry entered the Great Hall, covered in dirt. He had cuts bruises all over his body and blood was dried up on his face. The Great Hall was the only room in Hogwarts that wasn't completely demolished. However, there were rocks and shattered glass scattered everywhere. The room was very crowded, as compared to the deserted fields around Hogwarts.

A lot of people had died that night. A lot of people close to Harry. Harry could only fear what friends and acquaintances had given their lives to save the world from the inhuman Dark Lord. He had seen a lot the past few hours. His energy was drained out, his heart had become cold and numb from witnessing all the pain and sorrow.

His eyes scanned the room, looking for one person in particular. He walked past the tables, where wounded friends were trying to heal badly-injured companions. Despair grew in Harry's stomach as he saw Professor Trelawney shake her head, as she tried to find Tonks' pulse. Remus face was ashened, his eyes closed. Both lovers had deceased.

Tears filled Harry's eyes, blurring his vision as he continued walking forward. The tiny spark of hope was losing its power, consumed by the grief of the survivors. Parvati was crying on Seamus' shoulder, while Neville covered Lavander's body with a another blanket. Dennis Creevy had lost his older brother. And the Weasleys. Harry closed his eyes, trying to erase the image of the deceased Fred from his retina. Ginny was hugging her mother, Ron was trying to talk sense into George. They were all mourning about their lost relative.

Harry couldn't join them. He didn't want to interrupt their personal family moment. Moreover, Harry was seeking a particular boy, hoping he didn't die. He continued walking, still looking for a white mop of hair. Then, at the end of the Slytherin table, he spotted it. A dirty-blonde entangled mop of hair. His stormy grey eyes looked around the room desperately, pain haunting his beautiful orbs. His face was covered in dust, his pink lips were bruised.

But Harry didn't care. He started running, as his eyes locked on his target. He was relieved to find his lover still in one piece.

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted, his voice raspy, but loud and reverberating in the large room. He opened his arms as the blonde looked up. His features softened upon seeing Harry, the despair erased from his eyes. Harry squeezed the boy hard, needing to feel the presence of the Slytherin's body to convince himself he wasn't dreaming.

"You're alright," Harry whispered in his ear. He tried to fight the tears of joy and relief as bottled up burdens fell of his shoulders.

"I am," Malfoy replied, hugging the Boy Who Lived as if his life depended on it.

"I told you we'd get through this together, Malfoy." Harry observed the bruised man before him, happiness filling his heart. Draco Malfoy was truly beautiful.

Then Harry kissed the boy tenderly on the lips. Harry had forgotten they were standing in the Great Hall, which was momentarily scrammed with people. Harry didn't care. He had done his part for the Wizard World, and they were obliged to offer him peace.

The people united in the Great Hall observed the scene. McGonnagal started clapping, and soon the mass of wizards joined her, sheering the duo as they shared their kiss.

The dull atmosphere in the Great Hall was fading, as the survivors held on to that small sign of affection. The War was over.

Harry smiled at Malfoy, their eyes met, losing themselves in the depths and closing off the rest of the world. "I love you, Draco," Harry whispered.

"I love you too, Harry."

**The End.**

**So, this is it! Don't forget to review, this way you'll make my day!**


End file.
